The Dawning
by WhispertheWolf
Summary: A Storm Hawks origin story. Young Aerrow is on the run from Cyclonians, joined by Radarr, Finn, and Piper. Meanwhile, the Wallop Junko tries to find a place for himself in the world, and the Merb Stork struggles to survive in the Wastelands.
1. Prologue: On Bleeding Wings

Author's Notes: I finally got around to writing a _Storm Hawks_ origin story! I know, the first fan fiction I ever wrote was a _Storm Hawks_ origin story, but it was written before the second season was out and is no longer canon. Ever since then, I have wanted to write one. I was thinking of doing something like a medieval knight's to explain the becoming of a Sky Knight (a work I was calling _Knighthood_) but that was before "Origins" came out and ruined the whole idea. So until now, I've done no chapter fics on the Storm Hawks' origins and have been wanting to.

This story is based, somewhat loosely but still lining up a little, on the original story line. Not the one in the published work of _Storm Hawks_, although it goes along with that one, too. The main plot of this fic is based on the rough draft of _Storm Hawks_, which I found a couple months ago on a webpage that, unfortunately, no longer exist. (Otherwise I'd put up the address.) I'll tell all of you the plot since it's not on the internet anymore, but rather than put it here, I plan on putting the summary of that plot on my profile.

At the beginning of each chapter there will be a quote that goes along with all or a significant part of the chapter. Why? Don't know. Really, I don't know. Maybe I thought it would add a little spice to the fic?

Whatever, I've done enough talking. Just enjoy!

* * *

_**Storm Hawks—The Dawning**_

_**By WhispertheWolf**_

Prologue: On Bleeding Wings

_All has been looted, betrayed, sold; black death's wing flashed ahead._

~Anna Akhmatova

He stood against the sky, his black battle glider open on his back behind him. The skies around him darkened to red with the Firebolt crystals' power, the ever threatening sign of approaching Cyclonians. Soon to be his trademark sign.

It was a great sign. It reddened the skies like blood.

_Red was always your color, Lightning Strike,_ he thought with a smirk. _Now it is the color of your hopes and dreams and all you love._

The skimmer on which he stood was new, and the best of the best. The Switchblade Elite was the tope vehicle, even faster and better equipped than the Air Skimmer III Ultra. It was black, black as the night and eternal darkness. And there was also red upon it, so that it appeared bathed in blood. And soon it would be.

With the sky pelting, crystal pulses dripping like blood droplets, he stayed statue-still at first. In his new uniform and his new black glider and his black hair shading his eyes, he was nothing but a dark silhouette, beautiful, awing, and terrifying. His open glider looked like black angel wings. A dark angel, ready to swoop in and bring terror and devastation. A fallen angel, risen again. A demon doing the devil's work.

It was time to end this once and for all.

The Storm Hawks were gone, thanks to his hand. But it wasn't over. Lightning Strike, the Sky Knight, used to tell him much about the family he had left on Terra Nimbus. Now, after these years of spreading terror and finally reaching this terra, the terra where it all began, he was going to extinguish the flame left of the Storm Hawks, nothing more than a spark.

Lightning had a wife. And with her, a son. An heir.

Master Cyclonis had been quick to approve the invasion. Terra Nimbus was important. It was the place where the first skyride, called an Air Skimmer, had been invented. This terra had united the terras by providing ways to get from one place to another besides the dragons, which only the Knights could use. It was because of the skyride that the feared dragons were extinct and because of the skyride that the Empire even existed. Cyclonia was poor before it could travel and conquer. But the skyride, and later the airship, changed everything, bringing about the Age of Sky Riders. Throughout Atmos it had released unrivalled prosperity, alliance, war, rogues, thugs, thieves, and anarchy.

And with the power of flight a long-ago Master Cyclonis was able to start her Empire. The devil had been given her wings.

And now it was his turn. With his new identify now preceding him, the Dark Ace was leading the Talons now.

With him was the empress's distant cousin, Snipe. A Talon commander himself, his sister (a more adequate ruler, in the Dark Ace's opinion) had already been given control of Terra Bluster. This terra, once conquered, needed an important ruler because of its significance. This would become Snipe's domain once they took it.

And today, it would be taken.

They swooped in without warning. The pulses rained down, as if the sky was crying blood in its grief. The screams rang out. The Dark Ace's eyes were fierce as he kept bringing his sword upon anyone, man, woman, and child. And the other Talons did the same. After all, the Dark Ace had glared them all down before the battle and said, "Leave no one left breathing on this terra. Burn everything."

"But sir," one had protested, "everyone? Even the civilians?"

The Dark Ace had leaned into his face. "Do you refuse a direct order?"

The Talon's eyes widened in fear, and he shook his head.

What the Dark Ace said next had chilled them all. "There are about five thousand people on this terra. And I only need five hundred people to run it. And I have a surplus of troops who can fill that role."

So here they were, many of them in a massacre they never wanted.

The Dark Ace didn't believe in filling the lesser Talons' little heads with needless details. So he didn't tell them that they were killing the civilians to assure that only one of them was dead for sure.

Lightning Strike's heir could not rise.

The fires burned. For hours upon hours, and then into a second day, the killing went on.

At last, all was silent, so silent that it pained the surviving Talons' ears. It rose in a clamber around them, only broken by the crackling of the last fire from one of the houses.

And the Dark Ace's dark silhouette stepped out of the fire. "Any survivors?" he asked Snipe.

"None at all," Snipe answered with a withering smirk.

"Good."

That was all the Dark Ace said.

* * *

Through the death and destruction, a lone biplane skyride was flying away as fast as its rider could push it, unnoticed by any Talons. A young boy with startled, tearful green eyes and hair that normally waved in the wind like red flame. Now, however, it was darkened by sweat, sticking to his face like blood.

The red wings of the skyride, very different from the red and black wings that brought destruction, carried the bleeding boy away. But to where, he didn't know.

Above him, unseen by him, flew a mysterious large bird-of-prey, the red-violet plumage of its body blending in with the reddening skies. Its dark blue tail twitched, rippling the blue stripe that ran up its back, around its neck, and up to its green face and the red-violet feathers that stuck up from its head. Its flame-colored wings ruffled in the breeze gently. It lowered its teal beak toward the boy, blinking its yellow eyes at him as if concerned.

But then the boy was swallowed up by fog, and the bird fluttered in confusion before flying off again.

* * *

Author's Notes: Ooh, dark beginning . . .

Yes, this fic is a little Aerrow-centric. Why? Because he's the character with the most information known about him. (Plus, he's the character I'm most interested in besides Radarr. He and Radarr kind of go together, too, so I get to do Radarr!) It will be primarily focused on Aerrow, Radarr, Piper, and Finn, mostly from Aerrow's point of view, but a lot of Piper and Finn there, too, with a bit of Radarr. Junko, Stork, Grimsley, and others will also feature as main points of view.

Who's the bird? Well, that might be easy for you to guess. Either way, I'm not telling.

Read and review, please!


	2. Chapter 1: On the Radarr

Chapter 1: On the Radarr

_Sometimes blind trust can be the most perceptive of all._

~Terri Farley, _Phantom Stallion Book 1: The Wild One_

The morning was bright and comfortable. The breeze was gentle and pleasant. Not only was it gentle and full of fresh air, but there was the promising scent of fruit. Fruit meant breakfast. But other than the breeze and the singing of the birds and the rustling of the leaves in the trees and on the ground, there was not a sound. Not a soul to be seen or heard.

For Aerrow, it was the start of another lonely day. But even in these forsaken times, it was also the start of another day of adventure.

The red-haired, green-eyed boy rose from his bed of leaves against the tree. Leaning his head on a hard root had given him a crick in his neck, but it was easy to be rid of again. He stretched and heard his neck and back pop, putting everything back in place. His stomach was growling again. It was rare when it wasn't.

Shaking himself like a dog, the boy sprung from his bed and got to his feet. He sighed as he looked over his clothes again. They were tattered, torn, and stained. He missed the days when his mother would patch up the holes and did the laundry daily.

He stopped right there. Thinking about his family did little good. Not that he wanted to forget them, but he didn't want to dwell on what he didn't have anymore.

Feeling glum thanks to the memory, he yawned and blinked, trying to wake up. Like some sort of wild animal, he sniffed the air, taking in the fruity smell. Hopefully he could locate the scent. Maybe.

When he looked up at the rising sun, his frown became a smile. Why worry about what he was missing? He had this beautiful place for the moment. He had this wilderness and his own freedom. Although not what he would ever be satisfied with it, it had its perks, and once he had something his stomach, he planned on enjoying it.

Kicking his heels up like a young colt, he jumped up and grabbed the limb of a tree, swinging himself around it with a wild, "Wahoo!" and dropping to the ground again. Once again, he raised his nose to sniff for the fruit and then headed off into the direction of the scent, setting his pace for a purposeful walk. He was so energetic and set on what he was doing, he almost forgot to keep track of where he was going and get himself lost from his skyride!

* * *

The fruit turned out to be berries.

Okay, that's good. There was something to eat. He picked at the purple berries, popping them into his mouth one by one, hoping they weren't poisonous. If he didn't eat, he was dead anyway, so why not try them out?

What happened next was the last thing he expected while alone in the middle of the woods.

He was suddenly barreled over as a flash of light blue leapt over him, landing on him, pushing him down, and then taking off again, sailing over his head.

Pushing himself off the ground, Aerrow found he wasn't holding the berries anymore, as if they had been snatched out of his hand.

Had they?

Bewildered, Aerrow got to his feet, breathing heavily. Was someone here with him?

He picked up a rock for a weapon just in case. He needed something, after all. He left his knife in the skimmer. Oh, why hadn't he remembered to take it with him?

Suddenly whatever it was that he jumped him burst out of the bushes again, leapt on him, knocked the rock out of his hands, and then scampered out. When Aerrow looked at the place he disappeared into in the bushes, he saw one of the branches sway, and the swaying branch was missing some berries.

Aerrow couldn't help laughing. Whatever this thing was, it certainly wasn't humanoid. And whatever it was, it was only hungry like him. Perhaps it was only flashing by because it was afraid of him.

Now most of the time, when Aerrow saw a furry critter, he thought of how to catch it for roasting. But he couldn't really roast and he liked furry critters, so when his hunger was somewhat abated, he preferred to be vegetarian. Unless it was a chicken, which roam Atmos like crazy. He had nothing against eating a chicken. At least he knew how to cook those! But then, chickens weren't really furry . . .

Realizing he had gone off in his thoughts, Aerrow looked down at the rock that the creature had knocked out of his hands. He smiled, trying not to laugh. The creature was even smart enough to know that he had wanted to use the rock as a weapon!

When the rustling came again, Aerrow froze. Still curious about the thing, he didn't want to scare it. Hopefully it would get close enough for him to see what it was.

Realizing that Aerrow wasn't moving, the creature seemed to decide not to rush this time. The rustling grew louder as a little pink nose poked out of the leaves, followed by a short, little snout covered in light blue fur. What in the world . . . ?

Slowly, the thing slunk into the clearing. It kept low to the ground, staying on all fours, its long body like that of a weasel. Its face, though, was rabbit-like, with a small snout and long rabbit ears. Its piercing yellow eyes looked like they belonged on a hawk, not this cute little critter. The tail was pushy like a fox's, wishing in the wind. His had knee joints instead of hocks, and his elbows bent in the middle of his forelegs, giving him a sort of monkey look to him, and his hand-like paws were pink and bare.

Probably no longer than Aerrow's arm (and that included its tail, which was a third of its length), the creature looked like it was a . . . well, Aerrow didn't know the species, so he didn't know what exactly to call a baby member of the species. After searching for a word, Aerrow settled on "pup." It looked to be only a pup.

But that didn't make any sense. Trying to move as little as possible so as not to scare the pup, Aerrow glanced around to find its parents. But he neither saw nor heard any indication that they ever existed. Did that mean that the pup was all alone?

Their eyes met then, the boy's and the pup's, both questioning and full of curiosity, the pup's with fear. As if trying to get a better look at this strange being that it had never seen before, the pup stood up on its hind legs and appeared not only able to stand like that, but even comfortable. It made him look even more monkey-like, a miniature furry person with a rabbit head.

They stood stock-still, just staring at each other. Aerrow could see that the creature was male, and that he was hungry. Under his fur, Aerrow could almost count his ribs.

No wonder he had been after the food! This little animal was all alone and starved. _Like me,_ Aerrow thought with pity.

That was it. There was no way Aerrow was going to be able to eat this animal. If anything, he was going to feed him.

Slowly, ever so slowly so as not to startle to pup, Aerrow kneeled down. But just as he was almost eye-level, the creature dropped down on all fours and retreated backward a few steps, trembling in fear. "It's okay," Aerrow said gently.

It was the worst thing he could have done. The pup was a wild animal, and it didn't take kindly to a human voice. As fast you could blink, the pup was gone, leaving only the rustling leaves.

Aerrow sighed. That had been the first time he'd spoken to anyone in a long, long time. His voice had even sounded raspy with disuse. And to scare away the first being he talked to in so long just because he talked was a lot for a seven-year-old to take.

Sadly Aerrow sat down to the berries again, still hungry. He had never felt more alone than he did in that moment. And he felt sorry for the pup. He knew that he was all alone, too, and probably hungrier.

As time passed, the pup slowly crept out again, and Aerrow smiled, glad he hadn't left him completely. The pup stayed as far away from Aerrow as possible, but even so, he was willing to share the clearing, eating the berries at the other end.

All the way back to his skyride, Aerrow kept thinking he heard pattering feet and seeing yellow eyes in the trees and undergrowth.

* * *

It was a shocker when Aerrow saw the pup again.

A day had passed, and he had just gone off to do a little exploring when suddenly out of nowhere something knocked him over as a flash of blue sailed over him.

Okay, that was a little repetitive. And confusing. Aerrow didn't have any berries in his hand this time for the creature to steal.

Aerrow flopped over on his stomach and looked on as the pup pelted for cover. There were dark patches of sweat in his fur, and his tongue hung out behind him. His eyes were wide with panic.

Oh, dear. That can't be good. Was something scary coming?

Aerrow was so absorbed looking all around him fearfully and trying to think what it could be, imagining a huge, man-eating monster that when he heard the eagle's cry, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Whirling around and turning skyward, he saw what had gotten the monkey-like creature so upset. An eagle was coming in, circling, swooping. And then it was diving, its talons extended toward the pup.

Aerrow gasped. The eagle was going to eat the pup!

Scrambling to his feet, Aerrow grabbed a stone off the ground. The eagle was closing in the pup, who had cornered himself at a tree. He turned around and screech in terror when he saw the bird heading his way.

At that moment, Aerrow threw the rock.

Now, his aim wasn't that great. Aerrow totally missed, but it was enough to frighten the eagle into pulling away at the last minute, screeching at Aerrow indignantly.

At first, the monkey-thing seemed simply astonished. He stared at Aerrow in wide-eyed shock. Then, as if suddenly realized what Aerrow had done, he let out a bleat like a young fawn calling its mother and scampered toward Aerrow, hiding from the eagle between the boy's feet and wrapped his arm-like forelegs around Aerrow's leg. Aerrow stared down at him in bewilderment.

But the pup had good reason to hide. The eagle was circling again, and then it was diving, coming at them again. It looked angry enough to tear Aerrow off the pup. Not knowing what to expect, Aerrow picked up a large tree branch.

But instead of clawing at Aerrow, which it appeared to want to do, the eagle circled him and cawed angrily before then diving in between Aerrow's legs at the pup. Before it could get very close, Aerrow hit it with a tree branch right smack into the ground.

Frustrated and at a loss of what to do, the eagle left in search of easier prey.

Aerrow looked down at the pup. "It's okay," he said. "You can come out now."

The pup trembled, looking up at him as if not knowing what to expect. But then at last, he slowly pried his fingers off Aerrow's leg and pulled his arms away.

"Hey, there," Aerrow said to him has the creature crawled out from between his legs and stood in front of him. "I won't hurt you." He kneeled down in front of him.

But as soon as he did, the pup took off into the woods again.

Aerrow sighed. He didn't know why he liked the monkey-thing so much. Maybe because he felt a sort of kinship, since they were both in similar situations. But for whatever the reason, Aerrow wished he would quit running away.

Of course, Aerrow thought, he could always catch the monkey-thing. However, Aerrow liked his freedom, and he couldn't think of forcing the creature to stay through imprisonment. He remembered a wise neighbor of his back on Terra Nimbus telling him that wild animals could not be tamed by capture without breaking their spirits. They could only be tamed through trust.

Thinking of Terra Nimbus made Aerrow tremble. He didn't like to remember it. He cut his exploring short, heading back to his skimmer. He'd stay on this uninhabited terra another day and hope he'd see the creature again, but if not, he had leave or risk starvation.

Ever since he'd been run off from his home, he'd been a drifter, going from terra to terra and living like a gypsy. Most neighboring terras, however, had been invaded by Cyclonians and were occupied or left in smoldering ruins. So he took to the wilderness. The problem with the wilderness, though, was there was little to eat.

That night he went to bed hungry.

* * *

But the furry critter never ceased to catch Aerrow by surprise.

There he was again the following morning, standing on two legs a few feet in front of the boy. The creature looked inquisitive and less frightened than Aerrow had ever seen him.

When Aerrow sat up, the first thing he did was groan. His stomach hurt. He was hungry.

At the sound of him groaning, the pup retreated a few steps, turned tail, and disappeared into the woods. But he didn't run. He just wandered off slowly.

Aerrow looked after him, wondering what he was up to, until he looked down beside him.

Leaves lay down before him like a mat, and on the leaves were fruits. Not much, some purple berries, a gloopy fruit, and something that looked a little like a peach. But all the same, it was food.

The pup had brought Aerrow food!

Aerrow hated gloopy fruit, but he'd had nothing to eat in twenty-four hours, and right now anything edible looked okay. And the berries and yellow fruit were delicious!

He looked up at where the pup had disappeared. Was this a gesture of thanks? How was this thing even _intelligent_ enough to think up something like returning the favor?

Aerrow knew he had to find this thing. He was out there all alone with birds of prey ready to eat him. And he had just been willing to share his food with Aerrow, even though he himself must be hungry.

Getting stiffly to his feet, Aerrow set off in the direction where the creature disappeared.

After walking around in circles for hours, he came back. No pup.

But once he got back to his skyride, he stopped in surprise. There, standing next to the skyride with his ears pricked toward him, was the pup.

Aerrow blinked in surprise. "I seem to be on your radar, don't I? Were you watching me this whole time, yeah?" He gestured to the woods, talking with his hands like he always did. When he said "yeah," he nodded without even thinking about it.

But the pup seemed to be paying attention to his words and hands, much more than Aerrow was. He tilted his head to the side like a confused dog, both ears pricked forward to catch all of Aerrow's words. In the silence that followed, the pup tilted his head to the other side, his eyes far away as if he were thinking about how to answer. Then at last he jerked his head down, then up.

It took a moment for Aerrow to realize what he was doing, but then he realized. He was nodding. He was nodding yes! He was doing his best to understand what Aerrow was saying!

Aerrow stepped toward the creature slowly. Gently, steadily, he reached a hand out toward him.

The pup got down on all fours and stepped toward him on his forefeet with one paw lifting in the air, staying as far away from Aerrow as possible while still being able to reach him, poised to run but ready to stay. His nose twitched as he kept gulping in Aerrow's scent.

Aerrow opened his hand. The creature drew back at first but then came forward again, his nose twitching and his ears flicking back and forth, asking many questions.

Then, before Aerrow had decided what he should do next, the pup stuck his head under Aerrow's hand.

Not knowing what else to do, Aerrow stroked the creature very slowly, so slowly his hand barely moved at first. The pup tensed but didn't run.

He ran his hand over him again, this time a little faster. The pup remained stiff and ready to flee but did nothing.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Aerrow began petting him over and over. And with each stroke, the pup began to relax until Aerrow swore he saw a smile on his face and heard a sound almost like purring.

"You're soft," Aerrow said at last as he was able to dig his fingers deeper in his fur.

The pup tensed again at his voice, his eyes growing wide, but then he soon relaxed again.

The boy smiled. "I'm Aerrow," he told the critter. "Who are you?"

He almost laughed out loud at himself after that. Did he just ask the animal what is name was? As if he could talk!

Aerrow thought of what he had said earlier, how the pup had kept him "on his radar." "Radarr," he told the creature. "I'll call you Radarr. That okay with you?"

Radarr churred with a smile and flicked his tail.

* * *

Author's Notes: Yeah, I know. This has a very close resemblance to my story _The Need for Friendship_, which is called a companion piece to _The Drifter _but is perfectly able to stand alone as well. If you guys want to read it, it's from Radarr's point of view and written before the second season was let out, although I think it's still canon enough. Apparently I have trouble trying to think of another version of the way Aerrow and Radarr met. I always imagine a young, abandoned boy all alone finding a young, orphaned wild animal and gaining his trust.

Not a whole lot of action yet, I know. But it'll come! Just wait. And, you know, you might want to review while you're waiting. Just a thought.


	3. Chapter 2: A Place of Refuge

Chapter 2: A Place of Refuge

_Home is the place where, when you have to go there/They have to take you in./I should have called it/Something you somehow haven't to deserve._

~Robert Frost, "The Death of a Hired Man"

From then on, there was never just Aerrow or just Radarr. They were "Aerrow and Radarr," an inseparable pair, two friends who could never be parted. Both had given the other something to live for and something to hope for in the future, taking the place of the family they had each lost.

Each place they went to seemed to be uninhabited wilderness or a place of carnage. They avoided places occupied by Cyclonians altogether.

During their travels and their struggles in getting food, Radarr became more and more versed in Aerrow's language; however, Aerrow could never quite get a grasp of Radarr's, so sometimes their exchanges were a little one-sided.

Aerrow had a couple sets of clothes that looked like uniforms, although one was meant for a girl and all were too big for him except for one. They had been stashed in the skimmer when he had taken it from home, and he looked forward to the day when he outgrew his ragged clothes and was old enough to wear one of the suits.

The one uniform that wasn't too big for him was too small. It used to be his, one that he had worn as a toddler. His father used to put him in it, saying then he was just like him.

Aerrow had cut a hole in the back of the seat of the shorts of this uniform. Now it was Radarr's, who sported it just like a human, and the hole in the seat fit perfectly around his tail. And once he got used to the idea of wearing clothes, the little wild animal was suddenly very civilized and very shy, not even wanting to take his shirt off if someone else was around, much less his pants. Young as he was, the clothes were a little big yet, but Radarr made them work and he was filling out into them.

Radarr was nearly grown by the time the two reached an inhabited terra. Aerrow was eight by now and very used to talking to no one but Radarr. Sometimes he thought it would be nice to have other friends, but he wasn't sure who he could trust. The whole world had abandoned him. Therefore Radarr was his world. He concentrated on providing for him.

So finding an inhabited terra with no Cyclonians was both daunting and exciting for Aerrow. He paced back and forth on the hill overlooking the town, like a lone wolf pondering before he went to join a pack.

Radarr, however, was nervous and apprehensive. He followed along at Aerrow's heels as he paced, sliding to a stop on his haunches whenever Aerrow spun around and turned the other way. The little guy's fur was sticking out on end, and he was stiff and tense. The only good person he had ever known was Aerrow; all other people had been labeled as "bad" in his head. Aerrow had told him that there were other good people, and there must be, for Aerrow couldn't possibly be that abnormal. And Aerrow had said that these people were probably good people. But Radarr still didn't like it, and if it weren't for the delicious smells of food coming from the town, he'd be trying to convince Aerrow to reconsider.

Finally Aerrow's feet halted altogether, and Radarr slammed right into his legs head-first at the sudden stop. Looking up at his boy while rubbing his head with his paw, Radarr could see he was now gazing down at the town, his face all aglow. "It looks almost like home," he breathed to Radarr.

Radarr looked down at the town crawling with people. Well, maybe they weren't as bad as he'd thought. Aerrow's home was nice before bad people came. It was full of good people. If this is like Aerrow's home before it was destroyed, then it must have good people.

Before Radarr could stop him, Aerrow started striding down the hill with a purpose. Squawking in surprise, Radarr leapt after him.

Then halfway down the hill, Radarr again slammed his nose into Aerrow's legs as the boy halted. Radarr rubbed his nose and rumbled in irritation. That was getting a bit annoying.

He looked up to see what Aerrow was up to only to see that the boy was digging through his pockets. "I got no money," he said.

Radarr cocked his head to the side in confusion. He'd heard Aerrow tell him about money to buy things, but he was still a little ignorant on the concept.

Aerrow kept digging, shaking his head. "We can't buy food if we have no money," he said.

Radarr whimpered. He still didn't understand why someone would want money over food, but he didn't like the idea of no food.

Aerrow started out again, this time slowly and hesitantly. "We'll just check it out," he said. Then his face brightened. "Back home, I had a friend who worked in a shop to earn money. Maybe we can do that, too."

Radarr rolled his eyes as he padded along beside the boy. He didn't like anything that involved that word "work."

As they entered the town, Radarr stayed low to the ground on all fours. He skittered this way and that, always trying to keep Aerrow in between him and the scary sounds all around him. There were lots of skyrides that were very loud, all a bit shinier than Aerrow's, and lots of people talking, some in gruff voices. Most took one glance at the odd pair and ignored them completely. Others stared. All gave them a wide berth.

Radarr stared at what he was walking on. He had seen cobblestone streets before, on the ruined terras they had ended up on, but in the light of a happy, intact city, it all looked and even felt different, somehow almost inviting. Even so, all instincts were telling him to flee. But Aerrow wouldn't lead him into a bad situation, would he?

As Radarr thought about that, he thought about Aerrow.

This is the boy that built a raft so he and Radarr could go over a waterfall "just for thrills."

This is the boy who did loop-to-loops and barrel roles in the air on his skyride.

This is the boy who would climb straight up the face of a cliff just to take in the view.

Yeah, Radarr wouldn't put it past Aerrow to do something stupid. But coming into a town wasn't exactly a daredevil situation. It took forethought. Aerrow didn't do stupid things when he thought them through. Usually.

Then Radarr smelled something _wonderful_.

The critter stopped and stood up his hind legs, raising his nose into the air. That thing he smelled must be something cooking, but it wasn't meat. He had smelled cooking meat before, but this was different. Whatever it was, it was definitely edible. His mouth watering, Radarr followed the smell right up to the door of one of the buildings.

Aerrow sometimes grabbed books and other reading materials from ruins. While he tried to advance his reading, he taught Radarr to read a little, although not much. And Radarr saw the word "Shop" above the open doorway in front of him, but it was the only word he knew on the sign.

In shops, he knew, they sell things for money. They had no money. But the smell was coming from the shop.

He stepped inside and felt himself drooling. There was food everywhere! Bread, Aerrow called this delicious stuff. But it was all kinds of bread! Freshly baked bread, donuts, strudels, turnovers, cookies, and cakes. Sugar mingled with the fresh-bread smell and made Radarr excited. His empty stomach, denied food for a whole day now, was just growling.

But the smell that had just brought him into the shop was there in front of him: a freshly-baked berry pie! It was on a stand by the window.

He headed toward it, and it seemed to sparkle and glow, calling him closer. He headed toward it and reached out a paw for it. It kept saying to him, _Eat me! Eat me!_

"Radarr, no!"

The yell startled Radarr out of his wits. He jumped straight up about four feet in the air and then whirled around, breathing heavily.

It was only his boy. Radarr relaxed and glared at him as if to say, _You don't have to yell._

But Aerrow was looking back between Radarr and the pie. "Radarr, don't eat that!" he scolded. "We can't pay for it."

Radarr was listening, and was disappointed to hear what was said, but his ears shot straight up as he heard something else. There were heavy footsteps approaching behind. And they stopped just before he reached him. Slowly, fearfully, Radarr turned around to see who was towering over him.

He turned to see a large, fat man who had his hands on his hips. His face was ugly and all twisted up, as if he smelled something bad. "What's goin' on here?" he bellowed, scowling first at Radarr, then at Aerrow.

Aerrow looked nervous. "Nothing, sir," he answered quickly. He scooped Radarr up into his arms before his furry friend could protest. "We're just looking."

The man eyed him angrily. "You've already broken two rules, kid."

"Sir?"

"No homeless folk in here," he said. "I don't run charities. And no pets." He pointed a fat finger at Radarr. Radarr didn't feel comfortable being point at, and he snuggled deeper into Aerrow's arms. Not to mention Aerrow had told him what a pet was, and Radarr was _not_ a pet. He stayed with Aerrow only because he chose to. He glared up at this mean man and showed him his teeth.

"Sorry, sir," Aerrow said hesitantly, backing toward the door. He headed outside onto the sidewalk and set Radarr on the ground. The man glared at them, arms crossed, until the two were out of sight of his shop.

Radarr wasn't sure he liked this town.

* * *

They didn't run into anymore trouble after that for awhile because from then Radarr stuck to Aerrow like glue, only leaving his side when the boy agreed it was okay.

When Radarr was younger, he used to climb up on Aerrow's shoulder and hang on his back. He wished he was still small enough to do that. Or that Aerrow were bigger. He felt safer up there.

Aerrow went around to a couple different places, each time asking for a job, even if it was only a one-time job. But no one was accepting. And Radarr was getting hungry. He knew Aerrow's stomach was growling, too.

After they left one of the shops, touching nothing, one of the storekeepers ran out and shouted, "Thief!"

Aerrow and Radarr whirled around in confusion. Thief? The man was stolen from? They looked around in confusion, trying to see if anyone was running away. Radarr's first thought was to get away. What if this thief was dangerous?

But Aerrow immediately wanted to catch the thief. Owning very little himself, he didn't like the idea of someone who would steal his things. It wasn't fair or right.

But then suddenly someone had grabbed him by the arm and was dragging him roughly toward the shop. "Hey!" Aerrow cried out in surprise. "What're you doing? Let go of me!"

His struggling only made the dark-haired man holding him angry. Turning on him, he bawled his other hand on a fist and socked Aerrow in the face.

Radarr's ears and fur flew straight up, and he let out a wicked growl as Aerrow fell to the ground. No one does that to his boy! Growling, he leapt for the man and bit him.

Howling in pain, the dark-haired man immediately let go and jumped away, holding his arm. Radarr dropped to the ground and scampered to Aerrow's side, nuzzling him, urging him to get up. Groaning, Aerrow opened his eyes a looked at him. Radarr could see that one of his eyes was red and already starting to swell.

The man glared at him. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Aerrow gasped, completely bewildered. He started to sit up, but he and glared at the man as he came and stood over him. That only made the man angrier, and he grabbed Aerrow's arm roughly and hauled him to his feet.

At that moment, the skinny little shop keeper ran up, huffing and puffing. When he reached them, he rested his hands on his knees, gasping. "That's him," he huffed. "That's him!"

"What'd he steal?" the other man asked.

"I didn't steal anything!" Aerrow gasped.

"Don't lie," the man scolded, glaring at him.

Aerrow just glared at him. He wasn't lying!

The storekeeper stood up and said, "A knife. He stole a knife."

Aerrow blinked. All he'd done was ask this man for a job! He'd taken nothing!

But the other man said, "Empty your pockets."

Aerrow obeyed. He had nothing but his knife.

When the two men saw it, their eyes narrowed.

"But . . . but that's _my_ knife," Aerrow tried to explain. "I've had it. I didn't steal it. I took it from home."

"Oh?" the man said. "And where's home? Who're your parents?"

Aerrow wilted at the questions. He didn't want to tell these men he was an orphan. Or homeless. He twiddled his thumbs, thinking about how to answer, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"That can't be the knife that's stolen."

Aerrow looked up at the voice and then jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Look at it, gentlemen," the soft voice continued. "Isn't that knife old and soiled? I truly hope you don't sell knives like that."

Aerrow looked up at the person standing over him. It was an old man with a gentle, wrinkled face. In his other hand he had a cane. He smiled at the other men as if they were having a mere conversation on local weather patterns.

The storekeeper didn't know what to say. "Well, I mean, un . . ." he said. "I mean . . . look at him! You know his kind! They always do this sort of thing! Always violent and thievin'!"

"I don't know what you mean by 'his kind,' but I believe the thief you're looking for, gentlemen, ran down that alley." He pointed to an open-ended alley between them and the shop. "Now if you'll excuse us, gentlemen, this boy is with me. And I'd appreciate it if you gave him back his knife."

Bewildered, the dark-haired man handed Aerrow back his knife. Hesitantly, Aerrow took it, too scared to look up at the man's face.

With a strong, gentle hand on his shoulder, the old man steered Aerrow away from the others. Radarr followed along at their heels on all fours, glaring back over his shoulder at the other men and growling softly at them just for good measure.

* * *

The old man led the two of them out of town and down a small path toward a little cabin. And all the while he spoke nothing.

Aerrow was still bewildered and didn't know what to think. So far no one had been kind to him. Did they not like him because of the way he looked, dirty and tattered? That was the only thing he could think of as a possibility.

Once they reached the cabin door, the old man entered inside, leaving the door open. Aerrow hovered at the doorway with Radarr at his feet. They weren't sure if it was okay to enter.

The old man turned around. When neither moved, he smiled at them. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked. "Don't just stand there all day gawking. Come in, come in! And bring your little friend, too."

Hesitantly, Aerrow stepped inside. Radarr followed him step for step, still as low to the ground as possible.

The cabin consisted of only one large room with a smaller room. In the main room, there was a fireplace with a couch in front of it, a bed pushed against the wall, and a kitchen area opposite the fireplace. The door was closed to that room, and it looked to Aerrow to be a bathroom. Aerrow looked around, wondering what to do now.

The old man smiled at him and gestured to the couch. "Go ahead and take a seat," he said, "and I'll get some ice for that eye of yours."

Obediently Aerrow sat down on the couch, still wondering if he could relax. Once he sat down, Radarr immediately leaped up into his lap and curled up there, his ears still held high to take in everything.

The old man poured some ice out of his freezer into a bag, which he then wrapped in a cloth. Hobbling over toward the couch, he sat down beside the pair and handed Aerrow the icepack. "There you go, son. Just put that to your eye there, and it'll help with the swelling."

Aerrow put the icepack to his eye, still looking at the man. He didn't seem threatening or mean. He seemed very nice. And Aerrow felt rude for invading his space. The least he could do was show he was grateful. "Thank you," he said at last. "I mean, for what you did back there."

"Pssh!" the old man said, gesturing dismissively. "Think nothing of it. Let's just hope that angry shopkeeper finds that knife he was looking for."

At that moment, Aerrow cringed. His stomach had growled so loudly that there was no way to have _not_ heard it. Looking concerned, Radarr looked up at him and whimpered.

The old man immediately got his feet. "Where are my manners!" he said. "I haven't even gotten the tea and sandwiches! Shame on me!" He headed to the counter. "You like tea?"

"Haven't tried it," Aerrow admitted.

"Well, now's yer chance. What do you like on your sandwich?"

"I don't need . . ."

"Oh, no!" the old man insisted. He smiled knowingly. "You know how rude it is not to try your host's cooking."

Well, Aerrow didn't want to be rude. "I'm sure whatever you make'll be fine."

In little time, the old man brought out a tray with two cups of tea, a cup for sugar and another for cream, and two large sub sandwiches. As soon as he set it down on the coffee table, though, he blinked at the duo on the couch. "Silly me!" he said. "I forgot we're serving for three! You two help yourselves, and I'll fix my own."

Aerrow hesitantly picked up the sandwich. His mother had always told him not to eat before everyone was served.

Radarr, however, had been told no such rule, and the old man had said to "help themselves." Immediately Radarr leapt onto the coffee table and began stuffing one of the sandwiches into his mouth.

Once the old man was seated and eating as well, Aerrow took a bite of his own. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he was eating. Before you could bat an eye, the sandwich had disappeared. He hadn't even sipped his tea!

The old man just smiled as he watched him, nibbling on his own. "The name's Gawain, but most just call me Old Timer. What's your name, son?"

"Aerrow," the boy answered. He placed a hand on Radarr's shoulder. "And this is Radarr."

Radarr looked over at the old man and smiled, churring to him in greeting.

Old Timer smiled. "Aerrow and Radarr," he said. "Well, tell you what, Aerrow and Radarr. I've got some chores that need doin' around here. Now I'm real cheap, but I'm willing to board you here, give you place to sleep and provide your meals if you help me patch this place up. What do ya say? Will you give me a hand?"

Aerrow and Radarr exchanged glances. Radarr could see Aerrow liked the idea, and Aerrow could see Radarr agreed. Together they nodded and turned back to Older Timer. At first Aerrow tried to speak, to say they'd like the job, but he couldn't from the lump in his throat. After a moment, he still couldn't speak the words he wished; all he could say was, "Thank you, sir."

* * *

Author's Notes: Yeah, I did much of this from Radarr's point of view. I didn't mean to, but he just sort of took over. Not that I'm complaining. He's my favorite character! I guess it just sort happened because he was the one awed and new to the whole experience of entering a town, so I just trying to show his amazement and his ignorance in the way of people.

I have used the name "Gawain" in a _Storm Hawks_ story before and was told in a review that I couldn't have thought of a name that was lamer. Just for the record, Gawain is the name of one of King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table. In fact, he's the greatest knight next to Lancelot. Lame-sounding? Maybe. Lame name? I don't think so. You can't go wrong with King Arthur.

Still no action. Meh. It'll come. I hope to cruise through these early years and get to the more interesting parts and some other characters soon!


	4. Chapter 3: Dark Dawn

Chapter 3: Dark Dawn

_What I feared has come upon me; what I dreaded has happened to me. I have no peace, no quietness; I have no rest, but only turmoil._

~Job 3:24-25

Old Timer kept up his end of the bargain and more. He not only provided board for the boys' services, but he also took Aerrow under his wing as his pupil, refining his reading and math skills and teaching him history and a thing or two about the science of crystals. At first Aerrow was an avid learner, but the more comfortable he got, the more he was prone to daydreaming rather than paying attention.

While Aerrow had lessons, Radarr had run of the place. He chased little critters in trees and sometimes leapt from tree limb to tree limb himself. He sometimes got into the refrigerator and ate more than his share, but he always there whenever a single shingle fell off the roof or even a little crack need patching. And when he couldn't find anything better to do, he would explore the mechanics of Aerrow's skyride.

During this time, while Aerrow grew in inches, Radarr had completely grown up. He stood two feet tall from his feet to the top of his head when he stood up on two legs. His ears added another five inches or so.

Whenever Old Timer went into town, he brought Aerrow and Radarr with him. Sometimes Aerrow would try to go play with some of the other children and made friends with many of them. For the first time since the conquering of Terra Nimbus, he was living almost like any normal Atmosian boy would.

For nearly a year and a half Old Timer took care of the duo, long after all the repairs had been made. Aerrow came to think of the old man as sort of a grandfather to him and made himself right at home in their little cabin, which seemed more snug and warm with each passing day.

During that time, Old Timer asked only once about Aerrow's past. Aerrow tried to answer but didn't know what to say. Old Timer never pressed the matter.

But Aerrow didn't stop thinking about it. And on their last day together he popped the question, "Old Timer, why do people fight in wars?"

The two were sitting by the fire quietly. At first Old Timer gave no indication that he even heard (he hadn't the best hearing in the world). But then at last he turned to look at Aerrow very calmly, a knowing, sad look in his eyes. "Power, I guess," he said. "Sometimes greed and ownership."

"But isn't it a bit more . . . complicated?"

"It can be," Old Timer admitted. "Sometimes it's a simple mistake, a misunderstanding that led to harsh feelings. Sometimes people are getting back at what their fathers had done—"

"People shouldn't be punished for what their fathers did."

"No," Old Timer agreed, "but it is one of the causes. But sometimes . . ." He tapered off.

"Yes?" Aerrow pressed.

"Sometimes," Old Timer started again, "when people seek truth, they seek it in the wrong places and follow the wrong leaders." His eyes met the boy's. "That's why leaders need to not lead their followers astray."

"Is Master Cyclonis a leader?"

Old Timer closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Opening them again, he said, "Yes, she is a leader. The wrong kind of leader."

"And that's why she hurts people?"

Old Timer's eyelids were starting to droop. "It's late, son," he said. "It's time we got some shuteye." He started making up his own bed and Aerrow's as well.

Aerrow could see he wasn't going to get any more answers that night. Disappointed, he started to get ready for bed.

Just as he was climbing into bed, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Aerrow," he said, "she won't hurt you anymore."

Looking back on it, Aerrow hated the fact that he had believed him.

* * *

The next morning, when Aerrow rose, he saw Old Timer was still in bed. Not wanting to disturb him, Aerrow tiptoed out of bed and started getting breakfast ready. Radarr sat up and yawned, blinking tiredly at his boy before hopping off the bed and following him.

As he was getting the dishes out, he accidentally dropped all of them. Two of them broke.

Aerrow cringed. He could already hear Old Timer saying, "One at a time, Aerrow."

Aerrow looked over at Old Timer, thinking surely that the old man had heard the noise. But Old Timer didn't even move.

That was odd. Old Timer didn't necessarily wake at the lightest sound, but he wasn't a deep sleeper. There wasn't a doubt in Aerrow's mind that Old Timer had heard the sound. Then again, he was growing deaf.

"Old Timer?" Aerrow asked. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up."

Still Old Timer didn't move.

"Old Timer?"

Radarr was at his boy's feet, and once he focused on Old Timer, it was clear to Aerrow that the furry critter knew something Aerrow did not.

Radarr crept toward the bed and hopped up next to Old Timer. And he began to whimper before meeting Aerrow's eyes.

Aerrow felt like he'd just taken a blow to the chest. "No . . ."

It took him less than a second to cross the room and fall to his knees beside the old man's bed. "Old Timer!" he said. "Old Timer, wake up! Please!"

Old Timer was completely still.

Tears fell from Aerrow's eyes. "Old Timer, please! Please, Gawain!" He couldn't stop his sobbing. "Please . . ."

He buried his face in his arms while Radarr held him, whimpering as his boy cried.

* * *

Old Timer's heart gave out. That's what the folks told Aerrow. He was just too old, they said.

Aerrow felt like his entire world had fallen apart.

At the funeral, Aerrow and Radarr stood alone, watching them put the coffin in. Everything felt just wrong, seeing Old Timer like that.

When the preacher finished, everyone left, one by one. But Aerrow and Radarr stayed standing there.

Aerrow just couldn't understand. After everything he'd had to go through . . . why? Why did he have to loose his family twice? Where was the fairness in that?

Why wasn't life fair?

Aerrow walked up to Old Timer's grave, reading the name on gravestone. "You were right," he said. "Cyclonis won't hurt me again." He felt tears roll down his cheeks. "Why did you have to hurt me?"

Radarr hugged his leg, whimpering and looking up at Aerrow with sad eyes.

It made Aerrow smile just a little to see him. At the end of the day, he still had Radarr. He always had Radarr.

Turning his back on the stone, Aerrow walked away slowly with Radarr at his side. Radarr walked on two legs, leaning close to Aerrow. Aerrow reached down and scratched him behind the ears. "Just you and me again, buddy," he said. "You and me."

Automatically, the two headed back at the cabin. Once so snug and warm, it now seemed cold and forlorn.

But Aerrow was comforted to know that this wasn't like last time. He still had his family in Radarr. And they still had a home. "I'll get a job in town," he said. "We can make this work."

Radarr churred in agreement.

* * *

It had only been a little over a week since the funeral. Aerrow and Radarr had begun working for Mrs. Robin, a kind plump woman who liked paint and then sell her work. Having heard about what happened to Old Timer, she had taken them under her wing.

The sun had only just risen, bringing the dawn. The duo was working on sweeping out Mrs. Robin's shop, preparing it for a busy day, when it happened. The droning, angry sound like that of a swarm of insects was the first sign. Then the sound of thunder and the red lightning within it.

Aerrow and Radarr froze. Aerrow's hands started to shake. "No," he gasped. "No, not here!"

But it was happening.

Aerrow dropped his broom at once and ran to the back of the shop. "Mrs. Robin!" he cried. "Mrs. Robin!"

Mrs. Robin came out from the back room, a pleasant smile on her face. "Whatever are you yelling about, child?"

"We have to get out of here!" Aerrow cried. "They're coming! They're coming!" Beside him, Radarr began jumping up and down, pointing out the door frantically.

Mrs. Robin frowned, picking up on their panic. "Who's coming?"

"Cyclonians!"

Mrs. Robin's ran to the window and gasped. "Oh, dear . . ." She ran back into the back room and came back with snacks. "Here, child," she said, shoving them into his arms. "Go get your skimmer and go!"

But Aerrow was in another place, with another woman, one with dark brown hair, loving green eyes, and a gentle face, holding him. _Go!_ he could here her voice say. _Get the skimmer and go!_

Aerrow looked up at Robin, even as Radarr kept pulling at his pant leg. "No," Aerrow said. "No, we can't just leave you here!" He would not let this happen again! He couldn't. He just _couldn't!_

But Mrs. Robin was already hustling along out the back door. "Go on," she said. "I'll be there shortly."

Aerrow didn't like that answer, but he did what he was told. With Radarr on his heels, he pelted out the back door and took a path through the woods back to Old Timer's cabin, where his skyride was kept.

The path had never seemed so long. He stumbled and fell once, but only once, and he landed balanced on all fours, rising up again like a sprinter with hardly a break in stride. Radarr started running upright, but in an effort to keep up he got down on all fours, skimming along the ground beside Aerrow like a blue blur of fur.

But just as the cabin came in sight, Aerrow heard the sound. The first shots were being fired, the first fires lit, the first screams ringing out. Aerrow spared only a glance over his shoulder at the rising smoke before he picked up the pace, leaping through the forest as swift as a deer, in a race against time. He had to get to the skyride and get back to the town to save who he could!

It seemed like forever before they reached the cabin with the skyride out front. Radarr was three strides ahead in a headlong gallop. Without breaking stride, he leapt into the seat and turned on the engine before making room for Aerrow. Less than a second later, Aerrow made the leap into the seat in front of him, and the two were off.

Aerrow didn't try to take off, afraid the Talons would see him. He drove straight up the path toward town, knowing he'd be in view of the village once they crested the hill.

But once they did, he slid to a stop.

The town was already in ruins. Aerrow looked back and forth, trying to find some way he could get others out without being caught himself. But Talons were everywhere and some were looking his direction as if they had already spotted him.

And then he saw Mrs. Robin's shop, which had also been her home. It was the blazing flame in the night, already having black smoke rising above it.

Aerrow knew Mrs. Robin would have never left her paintings. And she was nowhere in sight. Aerrow felt as if he'd had the breath knocked out of him. Anger and sorrow boiled together as one. _I let it happen again,_ he thought.

But then Radarr was shaking him in panic and pointed ahead of them frantically.

Some of the Talons were heading their way on their Talon Switchblades. Four or five, Aerrow couldn't tell.

Not good! Frightened, Aerrow spun his skyride around and drove away.

The Talons had the advantage on an open flat or in the skies. Their skyrides were faster, more powerful, better taken care of. But Aerrow knew the terrain better then they did. He headed for the woods, Talons hot on his heels.

Despite himself, Aerrow just had to smirk. He knew _just_ where to take these Talons.

As they drove in and out of the trees, he took turns so sharp his skyride almost ended up flat on its side each time. Radarr was screeching the entire time as if to say, _WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?_

Most of the Talons made the turns, but two slammed into trees.

Aerrow had another idea. There was a root just ahead. And it would send the skimmer straight into the air when it went over it. Aerrow pressed on the throttle.

At this point, Radarr had given up on reasoning with Aerrow's sanity. The little guy just covered his face with his ears and held on with all four paws.

When the front tire hit the root, the skyride flew straight into the air, spinning up onto its nose. And it kept spinning until the back tire hit the forest floor, throwing the entire skimmer forward so its front tire landed, too. Somehow, the entire skimmer had done a flip in the air and was still rolling as if it never left the ground!

Radarr was screaming the whole time.

When the first Talon hit the root, he went spinning into the air and crashed, yelling in fright. Seeing his mistake, the other two Talons behind him swerved to avoid the root.

There was the edge of the terra. Time for Aerrow's last trick.

Aerrow and Radarr drove right off the edge of the cliff . . . without deploying their wings. The skimmer hung suspended at first and then turned, dive-bombing toward the Wastelands nose first.

The Talons stopped at the edge of the terra, looking down in bewilderment as the pair disappeared below the clouds.

Using the clouds as cover, Aerrow deployed the wings and leveled out, catching his breath. If only all the stuff that was going on wasn't so horrible. Otherwise that would have been so much fun!

Radarr, however, was trembling and refused to give up his death-grip on the side of the skimmer. He was pretty sure his paws were now _glued_ to it.

But Aerrow stopped the skimmer and looked up at the terra in dismay. He couldn't see it through the clouds, but he knew it was there, now swarming with Talons.

Aerrow felt like all the happiness had been seeped out of him. Old Timer had been wrong. Once again, Cyclonis had taken everything. He had only Radarr, his skyride, his knife, and what little Mrs. Robin had given him to eat.

Wait, Aerrow thought, what had he done with the food? He looked all around the skimmer, but his heart sank. He didn't even have food for them to eat. When he had stumbled on his way to the cabin, he had dropped everything.

"Why?" Aerrow asked. Then suddenly, he felt the anger in him rising, burning, ripping at him. How dare they! How _dare _they! He picked up the only thing he had to throw—a neat-looking rock he had found earlier and stuck in his pocket—and threw it with all his might in the direction of the terra and the Talons. "Why? You stupid, evil, horrible slime balls! _Why?_"

He clenched his fists, taking deep breaths. Tears sprung into his eyes. But they weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of rage and frustration.

Aerrow's face was set in determination, blazing with an inner fire. "They'll pay for this!" he said. "Those horrible, horrible . . ." He tapered off, unable to think of a word bad enough for them, and took another breath. "I hate Cyclonians," he whispered. "And then he shouted it out to the skies. "I hate them!"

Not knowing what else to do, Radarr wrapped his arms around the trembling boy and stared up at him with sad eyes, listening as the boy who had never hated anyone now announced his eternal feud.

* * *

"Is that everyone?" the scar-faced Talon commander asked his green-haired lieutenant, looking over the prisoners.

"All but the boy we chased," he said. "Got away."

The commander rolled his eyes. "You're telling me five men couldn't catch a little _child?_"

"He's good with a skimmer, sir," was the lieutenant's only answer.

The commander turned his back to him. "Find that boy," he said. "You know the rule. No one escapes. Besides, if he can work a skimmer, he can work a mine."

* * *

Author's Notes: Hah, you guys have no idea what he's talking about! Only I do!

See? Finally some action!

I know, I killed off Aerrow's and Radarr's second family and took their home right out from under them just when they were settling in! Aren't I cruel?

Okay, the more you guys review, the sooner I update! Which means it's totally up to you if you want to review, but just remember the consequences if you don't . . .


	5. Chapter 4: Swift as an Aerrow

Author's Notes: Oh, dear! I got all of you very excited about Chicken Feather last chapter, didn't I? Well, er, the truth of the matter is, I wasn't thinking of him when I wrote "scar-faced Talon commander." I was thinking of the commander who chased the Storm Hawks in Episode 12, "Terra Deep," who had a diagonal scar going across his face. Sorry that I got your hopes up like that. It is the sad state of affairs that Chicken Feather does not feature in this story. (Originally, all major Cyclonian characters were included in this story, but the story became too broad from so many characters and was no longer coherent. Perhaps another pre-"Origins" fic for the Cyclonians is in order from the content I cut out? Eh, I'll think on it.)

* * *

Chapter 4: Swift as an Aerrow

_Let their trappings be taken away./Let them suffer starvation and die/Of being brought down to the real._

~Robert Frost, "The Vindications"

Aerrow and Radarr flew on into the morning and then into the afternoon. The terra they ended up on that night could hardly be called a terra. It was a spit of rock jutting up above the clouds, one with sparse vegetation and a lone tree.

Aerrow didn't even acknowledge Radarr as he stepped off the skyride and headed toward the tree. Radarr had his ears pricked toward him, but when Aerrow walked away, his ears drooped. If only there were some way he could help.

Unsure what to do, he leaped off the skimmer and landed lightly on the ground on all fours. Aerrow sat down beside the tree and crossed his arms, looking down at the ground. Slowly Radarr crept toward him and stood up on his hind legs in front of him. Maybe, if he could just get Aerrow to smile . . .

That's when he got an idea. Scurrying away and picking up a few pebbles, he came back and started juggling them, smiling all the while. He finally caught one in his mouth and had the other two balanced on his nose, standing on only one paw and holding his front paws up to the sky.

But Aerrow didn't even look at him.

Radarr's face fell. That apparently upset the balance of the pebbles, and the top one on his nose fell and smacked him the forehead, which caused to loose his balance and fall over with a loud screech.

Okay, new plan. Radarr went around Aerrow and leapt up into the tree, which luckily had sticky leaves. Picking a bunch of leaves, he started his next plan.

When he leapt down in front of Aerrow again, landing on two legs, he had on a skirt of leaves. He started hula dancing, and when he was done, he spread his arms out to Aerrow and squawked as if to say, _Ta da!_

At last, Aerrow raised his head to look at him, his face looking pale and haunted. But instead of smiling, Aerrow turned his back to him.

Radarr whimpered in disappointment, and his skirt fell apart, fluttering as individual leaves at his feet.

That was it. Radarr was out of ideas. Getting down on all fours and whimpering softly, he crawled up to Aerrow and then, being as careful as possible, he eased himself down beside the boy, snuggling against him and gazing up at him in sorrow. Following Aerrow's eyes, he looked out toward the sunset as it turned the clouds gold and amber, resting his chin on Aerrow's leg. Aerrow put a hand on Radarr's back. Together they sighed.

They didn't move until after the sun had disappeared over the horizon and the first stars were coming out.

Then at last Aerrow spoke. "What do we do now, Radarr?"

Radarr raised his head and looked up at Aerrow, but the boy could see he didn't have an answer.

Then Radarr squawked and jumped to his feet as if he just realized something. Before Aerrow could question him, he leapt back up into the tree and then scrambled down again, holding two plump fruits that looked like mangoes. He held one out to Aerrow and took a bite of the other, as if to say, _We should eat!_

Aerrow couldn't help but give him a small smile as he took the fruit. He held it, turning it back and forth and studying its seeming flawlessness. Then he looked down at Radarr and ruffled the fur between his ears. "What would I do without you?"

Radarr just smiled up at him.

* * *

The two were back to their old routine before they had met Old Timer: traveling from terra to terra and foraging what they could. As much as Aerrow missed his life with Old Timer, he'd forgotten how much he loved his freedom. Now he could run through fields as wild as any untamed stallion and leap from tree to tree like a monkey and soar through the skies on his skimmer like the eagle, letting the wind take him where it will and making winds of his own, all the while with Radarr on his side. And with Radarr there to keep up his spirits up, he felt as if there was nothing they couldn't overcome.

If only they knew.

At one time while they stopped for camp, Radarr kept glancing back and forth, feeling as if they were being watched. He sniffed the air, but he smelled nothing unusual. He shrugged it off as just being paranoid.

But on a rocky outcropping above them, peering down at their camp at the edge of the meadow, a green-haired Talon stood with binoculars fixed to his eyes, studying them and their camp. "I can't believe they've lasted this long," he said in amazement.

"I can't believe we spent so much time chasing a troublesome boy and his pet," his blonde, bearded comrade grumbled. He was sitting on the rock behind him, not even looking down at them.

The green-haired Talon lowered his binoculars and looked back at the bearded one. "Well, we can't let him get away. It's against the rules."

"I don't see why those stupid rules are in place," the other continued to grumble.

The green one sighed. "Because if they get away, they're liable to spread their story and bad things about Cyclonia. That's what got us into this mess with the Sky Knight Council and resistance forces such as the one on Terra Gale. This boy," he pointed down at him, "could grow up to be a man and then start a revolt."

"With the Storm Hawks long gone, we'll have all of Atmos by the time he's a man," the other grumbled.

"That doesn't mean he couldn't start a revolt before then, either, if he were to find an adequate leader."

"Then let's just kill him."

At this the green-haired Talon stared at his comrade in disbelief. "Kill him? He's just a kid!"

"So."

The green-haired one narrowed his eyes, looking fierce. "They'll be none of that on my agenda."

The bearded Talon rolled his eyes. "Calm down and take a deep breath," he said. "It was just a suggestion. Besides, if he's so dangerous—"

"_I _never said he was dangerous. That was only the explanation the commanders gave us when they gave us this mission." He looked down at the boy. "But he is a survivor and quite talented at evasion. He might be an asset to Cyclonia when we catch him."

"Whatever," the bearded one grumbled. "I just hope it's soon."

* * *

Aerrow and Radarr were playing together in a cool, freshwater stream at the edge of the meadow when suddenly Radarr froze. He had the same watched feeling again, and this time he was sure he had heard something. Pricking his ears as far forward as they would go toward the sound, he looked up at the rocky outcropping above them.

Aerrow stopped as well, noticing Radarr's tenseness. "Radarr? What's wrong?"

Radarr scrambled up onto a rock in the stream, still looking up at the outcropping. He churred questionably as if he didn't know just what had scared him, either. But he knew where. Just like a pointer dog, he pointed his nose up toward the outcropping and lifted a paw in that direction.

Aerrow peered up in the direction Radarr was looking, squinting to get a better look.

There was a silhouette of a person up there, standing at the edge and peering down in their direction. As he turned around, Aerrow noticed his red goggles, and the metal insignia on his chest flashed. Aerrow gasped. "Talons!"

The duo scrambled out of the water and toward their clothes, which were lying beside the stream. While they were putting on their clothes, Radarr's face began to turn red as he realized that if the Talon had been spying on them, he had seen him without his clothes on. Ironically, Aerrow, the human among them, had no such misgivings.

Aerrow knew only one thing, and that was he wanted to get out here. Now!

But strangely enough, after the first startle of seeing the Talon there, he wasn't afraid. Only angry at having his peace disturbed again.

He was strangely calm as he started putting what little they had on their skimmer. "C'mon, Radarr," he said. "Hopefully we can get away from them before they notice us."

But Radarr stared as Aerrow, a determined scowl on his face, went back and forth packing. The furry creature churred with a wide-eyed expression as if to say, _Aren't you scared? I am!_

But Aerrow didn't answer. He just got everything ready and then mounted up impatiently. After sitting quietly for a moment, he turned to Radarr, looking angry again and saying, "Well, come on!"

Shaken out of his daze by the words, Radarr churred and came running on four legs. In two strides he had leapt into the skyride, and they were off.

Up on the ridge, the two Talons were sitting with their backs against the rocky face. At the sound of the skimmer engine, the bearded Talon leaned forward to peer as far out as he could. Not having heard anything, the green-haired Talon glanced at him. "What?"

"Not to rain on your parade, with all your special spyin' and all," the bearded one said, "but your little mite there is drivin' away."

"What?" The green-haired Talon leapt to his feet and started stumbling down the rocky path toward their Switchblades. "Hurry! We can't lose him!"

The blond one sighed as he followed him. "I thought you said he'd just broken camp. Or did your did all your fancy, new-fangled tracking alert him of our presence?"

The green-haired one mounted and looked back at him. "You coming or not?"

The blond one leapt into his ride. "I ain't gonna spend another day chasing that boy more than I have to," he grumbled as they took off.

Radarr was the first of the runaways to see the Talons in the sky. Screeching in fright, he tapped Aerrow on the shoulder, frantically pointing up as the Talons came down overhead.

Scowling as he looked over his shoulder at them, Aerrow jerked the skyride left without taking off. The Talons swerved in the skies, but they lost sight of him when he entered the trees.

Once in the forest, Aerrow launched his skimmer over a mound. In the air, the skimmer spiraled through a maze of tree branches that would have been too small an opening if the wings were open. Once through, Aerrow and Radar were off the side of the terra, and in an instant, the wings were out.

The Talons only saw a shadow as they disappeared from them. But they knew that the places where the duo could go were limited. They'd track them down again.

* * *

For days, the chase went on. Every time Aerrow and Radarr settled down and started to forage, they'd see some sign of the Talons and then flee again. The Talons continued to track them. Aerrow couldn't understand what was so elite about this fighting force; they could never catch on to his flying and driving tricks. Perhaps it was because they feared for their lives, whereas Aerrow didn't think about it one way or the other, seeing as he felt he had nothing to lose. Whatever the case, they could always keep their pursuers far behind them.

But whereas the Talons had supplies and recuperation time, the hours without food or sleep for Aerrow and Radarr began to add up.

"The trip's starting to take its toll," the lead Talon said to his comrade the third day into the chase. He was studying the two friends as they had plopped down in what they thought was some cover, taking a breather. The critter was already asleep. The boy appeared to have trouble staying awake, and he was holding his stomach.

The bearded one just smirked. "We'll starve 'em out, yeah?"

The lead one nodded. "He can't keep this up for long."

* * *

Aerrow hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep. He hadn't meant to. He was just so tired, and with Radarr's gentle snoring as background noise . . .

So since he hadn't known he was asleep, he was quite shocked to wake up to having his face slammed into the ground.

The first thing he did was struggle to try to fight back. But someone had hold of his arms and was pulling them behind him. And he felt a knee digging into his back, crushing him.

"I've got the critter!" a voice said.

In the distance he heard Radarr growling and struggling.

Aerrow started his struggle anew. They were _not_ going to hurt Radarr!

But then the knee dug deeper into his back, making it hard to breathe, and his head was slammed into the ground again.

"Look here, boy," a voice said in his ear, different from the first one. "We don't want to rough you up if we don't have to. If you cooperate, you won't be hurt, got it?"

Aerrow raised his head enough to talk. "Where's Radarr?" he gasped. "Don't hurt him!"

"Your little friend?" the voice said, not unkindly. "He's alright. We won't hurt him, either, okay? Now, I'm gonna let you get to your feet, but try anything and you and your friend will have a bit of a problem."

The knee was lifted off Aerrow's back, and the boy drew in deep breaths, trying to replenish his lungs. If it were only him, he'd fight back with all he had. If they killed him, so what? But he couldn't let them hurt Radarr.

Slowly, with the hand of his captor still holding his arm, he stood up and looked around.

The person holding him was a Talon with dark green hair. Aerrow wasn't the least bit surprised but clenched his fists in rage.

Another one, a blond Talon with a beard, was holding Radarr. He had somehow managed to get a muzzle on him and had him on a lasso, one made with a loop at the end of a stick. The loop was tightened by a switch on the stick. Radarr was struggling at the end, flipping and wiggling through the air like a hooked fish and making noises like a rabid little dog.

As Aerrow watched him struggle, he felt his heart go out to his friend. He was already exhausted, and now he was fighting for his life. "Radarr!" he shouted. "Enough, buddy."

At the sound of Aerrow's voice, Radarr stopped in his struggle, landing on the ground of his side. He quickly rolled over onto his feet and looked up at Aerrow. The boy bit his lip. His friend looked absolutely pitiful with those wide, scared eyes and that stupid muzzle on his face.

"Smart," the green-haired Talon said. Although Aerrow twisted his face in a snarl at the voice, it sounded almost genuine. "Look, kid, we really don't want to hurt you. We're just following orders. Now, we're gonna take you just like we were ordered, but I'll see to it that no one harms you if I can. But I warn you, if you don't behave, there's not much I can do."

"What about Radarr?" Aerrow asked.

The blond one twisted his face in disgust at his comrade. "You mean we're not going to kill it?"

No! Aerrow struggled against his captor again. "Leave him alone! Don't touch him!"

"Your friend is safe," the green-haired one assured, glaring at his comrade. Aerrow was getting idea that he was in charge. And that was a good thing. He seemed to be the one Talon with _some_ bit of kindness.

In fact, the lead Talon looked a little sad as he pulled out some rope. "I'm sorry about this, kid," he said. "But I've got a family, and I've got orders." He started tying Aerrow's hands together behind his back. Aerrow struggled to pull his arms away but to no avail.

Once done, the lead Talon threw the other one some rope. "Hobble the critter."

The blond one caught the rope in his free hand and stared at the lead one in bewilderment. "How in the world do expect me to hobble it?"

"The boy will tell it to be still," the lead Talon said. He turned back to Aerrow. "Won't you?" He said it like a dare.

Radarr studied Aerrow for some sign. Aerrow didn't answer but only glared at the ground.

"Boy," the lead Talon said, "if we can't get your friend safely restrained, we'll _have_ to kill him."

Aerrow caught his breath and looked over at Radarr, who had squawked in fright and staring wide-eyed from one Talon to the other before turning to Aerrow for direction. Not knowing what else to do, Aerrow just nodded to him, letting him know he should cooperate.

The bearded Talon easily hobbled Radarr without as much as a twitch from the critter.

"See?" the lead one said to the other. "You thought he'd be a wild animal."

"Which one you talkin' about?" the bearded one asked. "'Cause I thought they were both wild. I mean, look at 'em!"

"I'd rather be a wild animal than a _Talon!_" Aerrow spat at him.

The bearded one turned red in the face and headed in his direction to hit him.

But the lead one got in the way. "Enough, Gos! Check that temper!"

Gos backed off, still giving Aerrow a death glare, which Aerrow gladly returned.

The lead Talon turned back to Aerrow. "And you!" he said. "Watch your mouth! You've got to learn proper respect if you're gonna make it where your going!"

Aerrow glared at him but didn't say word.

The lead Talon directed Gos to get the Switchblades while he held Aerrow. Radarr was left tied to a tree.

While Gos was away, the other Talon patted Aerrow down until he found his knife. "Can't have that," he said, tossing it aside. His eyes turned soft again as he looked at him. "Maybe you have some clothes or items you'd like to take with you? No weapons, now," he added forcefully.

This two-faced Talon was confusing to Aerrow as he tried to pinpoint whether he was any good or truly bad, but he took all the consideration he could get. He nodded in answer to his question and showed the Talon the clothes in the skimmer. "This is it?" he asked.

Aerrow nodded. "That's all I've got."

The Talon thought the suits looked familiar, but he didn't push it. He just held them in one hand while he held Aerrow with the other while Gos drove up with Twister's skyride. "Name's Lance," he said. "And the other guy's Gos." He pointed to Radarr. "And I think I already heard you're name, Radarr."

Radarr flattened his ears and glared in response, his hackles raised.

Lance turned to look down at Aerrow. "Who are you, kid?"

Before he could think twice about it, he said, "Aerrow." As soon as he did, he could have smacked himself. How stupid could he be, giving them his real name?

"Arrow?" Lance repeated.

"Sparrow," Aerrow quickly corrected. "My name's Sparrow." Aerrow stood stiffly, hoping Lance bought his story.

"Alright, Sparrow," Lance said. "That was quite a chase you had us on, yeah? I'd say you're swift as an arrow, whatever your name may be."

If Aerrow wasn't being held captive by the same man who gave the complement, he would have been proud. As it was, he could only scold himself silently for having fallen asleep and made that whole chase for nothing.

Lance looked over at his Switchblade. "You can ride with me and Radarr can go with Gos."

"Radarr and I ride together," Aerrow said unflinchingly. He was taking no chances that they do something to Radarr while he wasn't looking. Besides, although he didn't like either of them, Aerrow believed he trusted Lance more than Gos.

Gos rolled his eyes, but Lance glared at him for the gesture before turning back to Aerrow. "Alright," he agreed. "You can both ride with me.

"Gos, go get your ride. We've got to get back to the Destroyer."

As Gos left, Aerrow looked out at the setting sun. The end of the fourth day of the chase . . . captured, their brief breath of freedom smothered by imprisonment.

* * *

Author's Notes: Ooh, they're captured now. Now what? Hah, only I know!

That was long chapter. It went on two pages more than I expected. I started having fun with Lance and Gos. Yes, odd names, but I like to name my few OCs in _Storm Hawks_ after weather patterns, birds, and medieval stuff. Lance has obvious origins, what with the Sky Knights and all; Gos is named after goshawks.

If you want to know where they're taking Aerrow and Radarr soon, review!


	6. Chapter 5: Far Below the World

Chapter 5: Far Below the World

_He is torn from the security of his tent and marched off to the king of terrors._

~Job 18:14

The Talons and their prisoners stopped to make camp on one of the terras they had chased Aerrow and Radarr over. Radarr had his muzzle removed, and he and Aerrow were tied by a tree while the Talons got busy. Gos was grumbling again. "We chased them way too far. Look how long it will take us to get back!" He stopped making the fire pit and then turned and glared at Lance. "And why are we stopping here? The sun's not even setting yet!"

Lance gestured to their prisoners. "These boys haven't eaten or slept in days, Gos."

Gos shook his head. "You're too soft on them."

But Lance ignored him and began to get out the canned food. "Hey, that's ours!" Gos scolded him.

Again Lance ignored him, popping the lid and pouring the contents into a pot. "Just get the fire going, Gos."

Gos quit protesting, but he still didn't look happy.

Soon the fire was burning and the pot of soup sent up smells enticing to Radarr. He began sniffing the air hungry and nudging Aerrow while pointing his nose at the fire.

Lance noticed. Keeping his back to them, he smiled. Once the soup was hot, he poured some into two soup bowls (with Gos grumbling about the bowls being theirs). Then he turned around to the boys and set the bowls in front of each of them.

Although still tied, Radarr eagerly jumped toward the bowl and began lapping up the soup like a dog. Even as he went, he jostled against Lance and didn't seem the least bit disturbed by his presence.

For Aerrow, that was a good sign. When Radarr liked someone, even if he shouldn't, it normally meant they were somewhat trustworthy, if only a little.

Aerrow looked down at the soup, still wondering what he should do. He knew there was no poison in it. He had watched Lance get it out of the can. Besides, Radarr would have smelled something off, wouldn't he? But then, some poisons were scentless . . .

Although Aerrow's feet had been tied together, Lance was starting to undo his hands so he could eat. "Here, Sparrow," he said, handing Aerrow a spoon. "Eat up."

Aerrow looked down at the soup, but his stomach did somersaults as he did. Why eat to gather strength when he would just be put in a prison? Or worse . . . slavery? Not knowing what to do, he tossed the spoon from one hand to the other.

"Sparrow," Lance said, "you've got to eat."

"If the boy insists on starving to death, let him!" Gos called to Lance. "Maybe he'll like it better that way, considering where he's going."

Lance glared at him, but he turned back to Aerrow. "You've got to keep up your strength, kid. Trust me."

Aerrow hadn't exactly made the decision _not_ to eat, but all the same, he felt someone nudge his leg. Looking down, he saw Radarr looking up at him with sad eyes, his muzzle covered in a soup. He had eaten half of it already (although, he probably got about as much on his face as in his mouth), but he wasn't eating the rest. Not if Aerrow wasn't. He had no reason to go on without Aerrow.

Aerrow allowed a small smile at him. He didn't know whether or not Radarr knew it, but he was also Aerrow's sole reason to go on.

Aerrow picked up his bowl and began to slurp up soup from his spoon. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he took that first swallow, and then he ate greedily. Smiling in satisfaction, Radarr stuck his head back into his own bowl.

Lance smiled in silent laughter. Quietly so as not to disturb the two, he walked back toward the fire, where Gos was sticking a stick at the woodpile nonchalantly. "I told you the critter would be of use."

Gos grunted. "Just left him to die and all this would have been easier. Just say we lost him to starvation. But because we saved that _thing_, the boy's going on. I don't see how that's use."

Lance narrowed his eyes in disapproval. "Depends on how you look at it, I guess," he said at last. He looked over at the two again. "The boy's got spunk. He's not afraid. He just doesn't want to give in."

"It'll be the death of him," Gos said.

Lance turned back to the flames with a sad expression. "I hope not."

* * *

Aerrow and Radarr were easy keepers. They didn't struggle when they knew it was pointless, they didn't eat much, and they asked for nothing but water to drink. Neither made a sound unless it was directed toward each other. They both smelled so bad that both Talons wished they'd bathe, but they couldn't figure out how to keep the two prisoners while giving them the privacy to wash.

By the time they got up the third morning, the circles were gone from under Aerrow's and Radarr's eyes, and though they were still awfully skinny, they were starting to get the first bit of meat covering up their bones again.

With only two nights' stay on the journey, the Talons and their prisoners were in sight of a Cyclonian Destroyer on the third morning. Aerrow and Radarr exchanged terrified glances. What did the Talons want to do with them? Would they be thrown in some prison? Made to work in some smelter? And Aerrow's biggest question was what would they do with a little animal like Radarr?

When Lance and Gos brought the two prisoners to the scar-faced commander, Aerrow made sure he was glaring. He couldn't stop what they were doing, but he could show them that he wasn't scared or helpless.

All around them, gleeful Talons gathered around, as eager to see something sickening as schoolchildren were to see a bloody fight.

When the commander saw them, he frowned and looked Aerrow over. "This is the boy, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Commander," Lance answered.

Lieutenant? Lance was a lieutenant?

The commander twisted his face in disgust at the sight of Radarr. "And what's that?"

"The boy's pet," Lance answered.

Radarr flattened his ears and growled at Twister. He was _not_ a pet. He'd rather be better referred to as Aerrow's friend or partner, not a _pet!_

The commander nodded and said, "Well, get rid of it."

"No!" Aerrow cried. He struggled against Lance's hold to get to Radarr and protect him.

Lance held Aerrow back, but he himself stepped in front of Radarr, who was held on the lasso by Gos. "Commander," he said, "I don't think you're going to get much from the boy without the animal. Besides, it's very intelligent. Anything you put the boy to would probably be done in half the time with the animal at his side."

The commander looked down at Aerrow. "Is this true?"

Aerrow nodded frantically, hoping the commander believed it.

The commander looked down at Radarr. "Intelligent, you say. How intelligent?"

"He can understand you," Aerrow explained.

Radarr quickly nodded in agreement, churring at the commander pleadingly.

The commander blinked in disbelief. Looking a bit flustered, he said, "Well . . . alright. I . . . I guess I'll inform Lava Mine that they have two prisoners coming instead of one . . ."

"Lava Mine?" Lance asked in disbelief. "You can't send them there!"

"You dare question my orders?"

Lance suddenly looked fearful and shook his head, not making a sound.

"They need more workers," the commander answered. "I don't see why I shouldn't send him. A boy who can give some of my best officers such a chase can certainly make good work in the mines."

"How old are you, Sparrow?" Lance asked.

The Talon looked so scared that Aerrow was truly frightened. He didn't know what was so horrible about Lava Mine, but if Lance didn't want him to go, then it probably wasn't a good idea. And surely the younger he was, the less likely he'd be picked for the job. "Nine," he said. "I'm nine years old."

The commander blinked, looking bored. "He's lying," he told Lance. He knelt down in front of Aerrow so he was eye-level with him. "Look," he said, as if he were negotiating with an adult, "if I don't put you to work, then your little friend there is of no use to me, no matter what you say. Lava Mine is the only work I can give you. Now I ask again: How old are you?"

Aerrow swallowed, this time giving the truth. "E-eleven," he stuttered.

The commander nodded and stood up again, meeting Lance's eyes. "Eleven or older," he reminded Twister. "He meets the cutoff. He and his animal go to work."

Lance looked angry, but he didn't argue. He and Gos led Aerrow and Radarr away. Once they reached a prison cell, Lance opened it up, and they were led inside. While Gos stood at the door, Lance undid the bindings on Aerrow and then went over to Radarr, who surprisingly enough didn't even offer to nip.

"I brought your clothes along," Lance added when he was done. He laid them on the cot. "There's a showerhead there if you want to wash up," he said, pointing to the corner of the room next to the toilet.

At last, he stepped back and looked at the two of them sadly. "I'm sorry, kid," he said.

And then he and Gos were gone. Aerrow heard the door latch shut.

Aerrow crossed his arms and walked away. Lance had a good heart, he decided. But if he really did care about them, he didn't have a whole lot of guts.

* * *

During the trip to Lava Mine (wherever that was), Aerrow and Radarr did take advantage of the showerhead. After that, they sat around bored. Meals came regularly, but they tasted horrible. Lying on the cot feeling and like he was going to die of boredom, Aerrow hoped he wouldn't have to be cooped up like this at the mine. He couldn't stand being locked up for the rest of his life. He needed to run and jump and roll in the wild places or take a ride through the air on the winds of a gale. In fact, among the two of them, Radarr was the one born in the wild and the one who seemed to be content with less of it.

Unable to take it anymore, Aerrow got up and started pacing around the room like a caged lion. Not knowing what else to do, he struck up a sort of one-sided conversation with Radarr, his mind wondering back to Lance. "Maybe all Cyclonians aren't that bad, huh, Radarr?"

Radarr, who was contentedly curled up on the bed like a dog, stretched out his forelegs and yawned before answering with a squawk.

"I mean," Aerrow continued, "Lance wasn't bad." He stopped as if he just had a revelation. "But he was cowardly. And so were all the Talons that have chased us. They don't take the risks we do. And those helmets they wear? Why, I can't think of anything as humiliating as wearing a helmet!"

Radarr churred in agreement, knowing as well as Aerrow that in Atmosian culture, helmets were sign of cowardice.

"I bet all Cyclonians aren't all bad," he said again, still thinking it over. "But maybe the good ones aren't that brave. After all, someone who's good wouldn't stay with Cyclonia unless they had the guts to leave, you know?"

Radarr churred again, tilting his head to the side as if to say, _Do you still hate them?_

Aerrow stopped and looked down at his hands as he clenched them into fists, not noticing the question in Radarr's eyes. "That still doesn't give them any right to do what they do. Lance might be nice, but he still threw us in here." He pounded a fist against the wall angrily.

Radarr rested chin on his paws again and heaved a sigh, blinking as he kept his eyes on Aerrow. His question was answered.

* * *

A Talon (not Lance, Aerrow noticed in disappointment) came to Aerrow before the day was done. "Alright, boy," he said. "Time to get ready for your new home." As he approached Aerrow with chains in his hands, another Talon stood in the doorway.

Wait, chains?

Aerrow backed away from him, raising his chin indignantly. "What are those for?"

"Be happy, kid," he said. "These won't give you rope burn."

Aerrow thought he preferred rope burn over chains. At his feet, Radarr started growling.

The Talon at the door stepped in, and then another Talon got in the doorway.

With two Talons pressing in and at least one at the door, Aerrow and Radarr both knew it was futile to resist. But Aerrow pulled against the chains on his wrists and Radarr growled at one put on his ankle just to show their displeasure.

Once they were led outside, Aerrow and Radarr had their ankles shackled together, and Aerrow's hands were chained in front of him.

The Talons didn't even bother to put them in a cage on a transporting barge. They simply stuck them up on a Switchblade behind a Talon with four other Talons making a sort of diamond around this one as they flew off. To Aerrow's surprise, they dove toward the clouds gradually.

"This is suicidal," one Talon said.

"Well, they've done it before," another Talon yelled back, sounding amused.

Aerrow's eyes widened as he realized what they were doing. He felt like he was going to choke on the sulfur smell, and his eyes began to smart. Then the skimmer leveled off, and he was nearly blinded by the light and searing heat of the lava streams below.

He gasped. "The Wastelands?"

The Talon driving him looked back and smirked evilly. "Worst place on Atmos."

Aerrow exchanged a frightened glance with Radarr.

The Talons flew in low, and a volcano spewed lava right in front of them. All the Talons freaked and scattered.

Aerrow looked back and smirked at Radarr. "Cowards," he whispered in amusement. Radarr smiled in agreement.

The Talons flew upward again, away from the raging lava streams and volcanoes, and then to a terra. Although Aerrow didn't really think of it as a terra; it didn't even break the cloud line, and the air that coated it still smelled slightly of sulfur.

And there, on this "terra" was what appeared to be some sort of prison, with two high walls and a forbidding fortress. There were guard towers all around. And then there were men wearing clothes striped in brown and red. Cyclonian prisoners. They were digging by a large hole in the ground, from which some of the prisoners were wheeling out crates full of greenish crystals.

"Kid," Aerrow's escort said, "welcome to Lava Mine."

* * *

Author's Notes: Ooh, Aerrow and Radarr are going to be prison workers!

Yeah, I made up the whole thing about "a helmet is a sign of cowardice," but I was just noticing that all the good guys don't wear helmets in the series; only the bad guys do. So that was my explanation. To be honest, I think anyone who does what these guys do would be very smart to wear a helmet, but that's just me.

And to honest, I don't how Lance and Gos, particularly Lance, became so important. I only made them up to have Talons who capture Aerrow and Radarr. It shocked me how they grew into characters of their own.

That's all I've got to say. Please review!


	7. Chapter 6: The Fire Pit

Chapter 6: The Fire Pit

_Some say the world will end in fire_

~Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"

A loud yell and the clanging of chains woke Aerrow and Radarr from their sleep, jolting them awake. Blinking lazily, Aerrow rose from his cot, feeling groggy as usual. Feeling gloomy about the coming day, he ran a hand through his hair while Radarr yawned and leapt onto the floor. It was yet another day at Lava Prison.

How long had it been? Aerrow thought. How long? He glanced at the wall behind him, where he had begun scratching out tallies with sulfur rock on the first day he had come. One per day. The days had turned into weeks, and still he counted. Sometime into the third week he lost count.

He counted the tallies. He had counted up to seventeen days.

But how long had it been in all? Weeks? Months? It felt like years.

Then a guard banged on the door of the cell. "Hurry up!" he called. "You 'n the critter goin' to sit there all day?"

Aerrow raised his head to glare at the guard.

The guard pointed a finger at him through the bars. "Don't look at me like that," he growled threateningly. "You show me respect!"

Aerrow continued to glare, but he went ahead and got off the cot, followed by Radarr.

The two soon were given their breakfast of . . . well, neither of them really knew, but they called it "slop." Once they had downed the disgusting stuff, they had their ankles chained together. On the chain they were joined by other three boys, with Aerrow and Radarr on an end. Aerrow had yet to meet a boy as young as he was, but he'd heard there were some. He didn't know where. Very few people younger than sixteen ended up in this prison, one adult prisoner had told him. Very few women ever join them, either. And they never chained the men with the young boys or women with men or boys. If there were boys his age, Aerrow was sure he'd meet them someday.

Today all the boys seemed to be around fourteen or fifteen except for one. To Aerrow's surprise, he did look to be about his own age, maybe a year or two older. They all looked down at Radarr with some interest, but they weren't surprised. There was some talk among the prisoners about a boy with a strange animal that could work. In fact, Aerrow was pretty sure Radarr was the main reason no one had approached him to beat him up; the first day someone threatened him, and Radarr had drawn blood on their hand just before Aerrow knocked their lights out. Anyone wanting to harm Aerrow from then kept their distance.

With the boys in their chains, the guards moved the chain gang out to begin the day's work: mining the green raw crystals. They didn't even know what they were used for; all they knew was that Master Cyclonis wanted them mined.

"Hey, you! 1309!" a guard shouted at Aerrow. "Tell the critter to move along faster!"

Aerrow didn't see the need to shout, and he also didn't know why he had to relay the message. Hearing it himself, Radarr growled and flattened his ears to show his displeasure, but he complied.

The guards never referred to anyone by name. The prisoners were given numbers that were stitched onto their uniforms when they came, and that became their identity. Radarr, however, even though he had a number (1310), was only referred to as "the critter." And for some reason, the guards thought Aerrow was the only who could talk to Radarr. In truth, Radarr understood what they asked him just fine; Aerrow was just the only one who wouldn't get a flash of teeth for ordering him around.

After being given their pickaxes, the boys were sent down to work. Down into the mine they went, digging all day. The guards patrolled, but so long as they were out of earshot and production didn't slow, the prisoners found they could talk while they worked.

Aerrow and Radarr rarely talked (not that Radarr could talk much, anyway). They had plenty of time to socialize when they were locked up again. And the other boys were almost always a rough-and-tumble crowd, one that made Aerrow disgruntled to have to be around them.

The boy next to him today, however, seemed to want to talk. He was the one about Aerrow's age, an orange-haired boy, sturdy and stout with a round, almost ugly face. "Rough work, isn't it?" he said as they worked. His voice was awfully whiny, even though he was obviously speaking normally.

Aerrow grunted in answer but kept up his digging. Radarr only acknowledged the blond boy with a flick of his ear in his direction.

The boy kept working. "I've been here quite awhile, you know?" he said. "Gets old after awhile, but you get used to it."

Aerrow studied the boy. He was a little large in the belly than one would expect from a prisoner who'd been here awhile.

The boy apparently took Aerrow looking at him as encouragement. He kept talking with a confident smirk on his face, his pickax hesitating only a little as he did. "Name's Grimsley," he said. "What's yours?"

Aerrow didn't answer. He just looked away and went back to working.

"Come on," Grimsley said. "We're all in this together, right? It can't hurt to talk a little."

Aerrow glanced at him again as he kept digging. Aerrow stopped and thought, hunching his shoulders. He'd grown muscular with the work he'd had to do each day, and he was a good height for his age, but he still was so lanky and slight of build that he felt small and exposed, especially while having this information drawn out of him. "Aerrow," he said at last. "I'm Aerrow."

"Who's your friend?" Grimsley nodded his head at Radarr.

"Radarr," Aerrow said, warming a little. It pleased him when someone referred to Radarr as something other than "critter."

Surprisingly enough, even after that, Radarr didn't acknowledge Grimsley.

Grimsley nodded again, leaning on his pickax. "How long you been here?"

Aerrow froze. How ironic, he thought, that Grimsley should ask him that after his pondering this morning.

Grimsley smiled, waiting.

"Don't know," Aerrow said at last.

"It gets like that after awhile. But what do you think? Weeks? Months? You're not old enough to be here years, I don't think."

Aerrow thought a moment, pausing in his work. Grimsley had gone back to digging.

At that moment, the guard looked their way. "Hey, kid!" the guard shouted at Aerrow. "Back to work!"

Aerrow went back with new vigor, but he glanced at Grimsley. The bulky boy had stopped work altogether for a couple minutes, and he hadn't been caught. In only a few seconds, Aerrow had been reprimanded. Comes with experience, Aerrow guessed.

Back at work now, Aerrow thought back to Grimsley's question, still trying to think best how to answer it. "Months, I think," he said at last, grunting as he thrust his pickaxe.

Grimsley nodded. "Tell you what," he said. "When we're let off for dinner, maybe you and Radarr could join me in the mess hall. What do you say?"

"Sure," Aerrow answered immediately.

At his answer, Radarr glanced up for the first time since work had begun. He looked between Aerrow and Grimsley and whimpered.

But Aerrow didn't notice.

* * *

As work continued, Aerrow and Grimsley talked little, knowing that they could talk during dinnertime.

But at one point in the day, Aerrow heard the jingling of chains where he felt certain he shouldn't.

When he glanced up, he saw three men in the same chain gang moving stealthily toward the unused caverns in the mine. Aerow smiled. They were making an escape! Oh, how he wished he were them.

"Idiots," Grimsley muttered when he saw what was going on.

Aerrow glanced at him. "What?"

"Even if they escape capture," he said, "they'll end up in the Wastelands with no way out. And if they get caught . . . well . . ." Grimsley trailed off their.

Aerrow nodded. He knew the punishment.

"Besides," Grimsley went on, "that tunnel's sealed off for a reason. The only way through means going through the Fire Pit."

"Fire Pit?"

"Yeah," Grimsley smirked, as if he planned to enjoy scaring Aerrow with his story. "They say that when a group of prisoners dug that tunnel, despite how hot it was in there, they kept going until they finally struck on place where the floor toppled in. They didn't think anything of it until the volcano below it went off. Spewed a column of lava straight up in the air and sprayed 'em all. It was just like a geyser . . . of death!" He was completely into his story, smirking evilly and leaning in toward Aerrow, letting him know he was at the best part. Radarr pricked his ears toward Grimsley eagerly as the boy continued. "And you know what? All the men died screaming in pain as they were burned alive. They say that if you go down there, you can still hear their screaming."

Radarr stared at him wide-eyed, hugged himself in fright, and swallowed.

Aerrow, however, shrugged off the story, aware that Grimsley was only trying to scare him. "So do you think they can get passed the Fire Pit?" he asked.

Grimsley shrugged, suddenly no longer a forbidding storyteller. "So long as the volcano doesn't go off. Although I still don't think they could make the Wastelands."

At that moment, there was a hissing sound. "Uh oh," Grimsley said.

Aerrow knew the sound well enough by now. That meant something was about to spew lava. And the closest spew was _the Fire Pit!_

Suddenly there was the blast of the little eruption. Followed by a blood-curdling scream.

Aerrow and Radarr both cringed and exchanged glances. "They didn't make it," Aerrow said.

"No," Grimsley agreed. His eyes were wide, and he sounded nervous.

The guards must have heard the scream, too, for three of them went down into the tunnel, brandishing Cyclonian staffs.

The two boys and Radarr were back to work, but Aerrow kept listening for sound from the forbidden tunnel. What where the guards finding? What was taking them so long?

Then he heard the scraping sound of them emerging. And . . . was that moaning?

He and Radarr looked back.

One of the Talons was leading one of the escapees out of the tunnel. This escapee looked fine. But the other two guards were carrying one who was moaning and badly burned. The third was being dragged along behind them on the chain, burned beyond recognition. Aerrow didn't need anyone to tell him the man was dead and quickly looked away before he could get a good look at him.

The Talons set the injured man on the ground. "He's not gonna make it," one said.

Aerrow knew what that meant. "Radarr, look away," he whispered.

While both he and Radarr turned, a crystal pulse from one of the staffs sounded, and the moaning stopped.

He heard the clinking of chains, and while two guards held the prisoner still alive, the other one undid the ring on his ankle to unhook him from the dead men. Then they lead him away.

"H-he'll definitely be getting top punishment," Grimsley said, stuttering nervously. He refused to look on the scene.

Aerrow nodded. And while they continued to work, the sounds of a lashing energy whip echoed alongside the screams of the captured escapist. For all his tough talk before, Grimsley looked ready to crawl into a hole.

* * *

That night at dinner, Aerrow and Radarr got their "slop" and looked around for Grimsley. For some reason, Radarr seemed apprehensive, but Aerrow didn't know why. Maybe it was because of all the terrible things they had seen today. After something like that, Aerrow was glad he was going to be able to talk about with someone who could talk back . . . no offense to Radarr, but all he could do was gesture and make bird and dog noises.

After looking around for awhile and avoiding all the "top dogs" of the mess hall, who were always out to steal food, Aerrow saw Grimsley flagging him down to join him at a certain table.

Aerrow came and sat next to Grimsley with Radarr in tow. Grimsley smirked when he came. "So what about that, huh? You got to see the Fire Pit in action."

Aerrow scowled as he remembered. "I don't see what's so funny about it."

"Yeah," Grimsley agreed. "Times like that make you wish you were the guard instead of the prisoner."

"I'd rather be neither," Aerrow pointed out.

Grimsley shrugged. "Yeah. Besides, it's not like we have a choice about it either way."

Aerrow twirled his spoon in the brown gloop in front of him. "Can you really get out of here through the Fire Pit?"

"They say so," Grimsley said. "There're other ways, but the one through the Fire Pit is the only one that won't let you out in front of the guards. Good luck getting through the Wastelands, though."

Aerrow thought some more. "When does the spurt there go off?"

Grimsley blinked, as if such a thought were too intelligent for him. "How am I supposed to know?"

"Are there any guards posted around it?"

"I don't know who'd be stupid enough to be standing near that tunnel, so I don't think . . . Wait a minute." He stopped and pointed at Aerrow. "You're not thinking about—"

That was when Aerrow knew Grimsley wouldn't take to the idea. "Never mind. It's a stupid idea, anyway."

"One that could get you killed," Grimsley grumbled.

Aerrow shrugged, at small smile on his lips at his thought. "What have we got to lose?"

"There are other ways to get out of here, ya know," Grimsley said.

"There are?"

"Yeah." He leaned closer to Aerrow. "There's one kid that they actually _set free!_"

"How?"

"I don't know _how_, but I'm gonna find out. And when I do, I'm getting out of here, too. If you like, I'll let you in on the secret when I find out . . . that is, if you agree to do the same." He smiled broadly. "Maybe they'll set us free together."

Aerrow smiled back. "It's a deal." He looked over to the other side of him. "Right, Radarr?"

But Radarr only nodded curtly, looking upset.

The boys were done with their food by now, and as always, Aerrow was still hungry. So when Grimsley asked if he was, he immediately nodded.

Grimsley smirked. "I can do something about that." And with that, he got up and left the table. Curious to see what he was up to, Aerrow and Radarr watched.

Grimsley went right up to a kid one or two years older than him. Although the kid, or perhaps teenager, was taller than Grimsley, he was lankier. At the sight of Grimsley, the boy trembled with frightened eyes. His plate was full of slop.

They talked, and then the stranger began shaking his head. This apparently made Grimsley mad; he set his face in a snarl and lifted his fist as if he was going hit the other boy. Quickly the stranger handed his plate over.

Radarr let out a squeal of outrage.

Aerrow just blinked in surprise, which then turned into anger. That's how Grimsley stayed so thick around the middle. He bullied others into giving him food!

There was one thing Aerrow couldn't understand, though. He had a feeling he could take Grimsley in a real fight, but why had Grimsley chosen him as a friend instead of a target, since he was so much skinnier and rangier?

Then Aerrow heard Radarr growl as they saw Grimsley approaching them again, and then he knew. He had Radarr. Two on one. With those odds, Grimsley had decided he could make a better ally than punching bag.

Grimsley sat down, looking very proud of himself. "Want some?" he offered.

Aerrow just glared at him. "No," he said. "I don't."

"Thought you were hungry?"

"I think I lost my appetite."

Grimsley followed Aerrow's glance to the poor boy without dinner. "Oh, him? Don't worry about it. He's not going to starve to death. It's survival of the fittest, you know."

Aerrow didn't look at him but only clenched his jaw.

"Loosen up a bit," Grimsley said. "I didn't hurt him or anything. But here, you take what you can get."

Aerrow spared him one look before he got up from the table with Radarr following close behind. Aerrow had silently decided that he owed that boy some dinner tomorrow

"Hey!" Grimsley called after him. "You still in on our deal?"

Aerrow turned around again. He hadn't thought about that, and he didn't know whether he wanted to keep it or not. At last, realizing that saving a snob was better than not getting out of here, he nodded.

Grimsley nodded back, but this time he looked solemn, maybe even a bit annoyed. "Then think about what you want," he added.

Aerrow wasn't sure the implication of that, but he didn't say another word as he left the mess hall.

* * *

Meanwhile, outside in the dreaded Wastelands, a Merb sat on a rock. He didn't know where he was exactly (although he was sure it would be a place that spelled his doom, wherever it was).

Stork. Stork was his name. Or at least, he was pretty sure, unless mindworms were affecting his memories.

If only mindworms could affect the memories he'd just seen. Hundreds of Talons descending upon Terra Merbia. Stork left the safety of his home—which was surprising, because he _never_ left his home, which had a front yard filled with dangerous booby traps for any prowlers—and had gone out and attacked the Talons with all he had. He gave them a punch with his mechanical punching arm and a slam with his high-powered fly swatter and other assortments of his inventions. And when he had nearly all of them knocked out of his hand, he fought with his drill and a wrench.

But he hadn't expected to be pushed off the terra.

It happened so suddenly. While he was knocking a Talon out at the edge of the terra, another one drove past him on a Switchblade. The Talon held out his arm and knocked Stork right over the edge.

Stork was prepared for anything. He prided himself in the fact that he had planned for such an event, even though he'd failed to expect it. He had his parachute ready.

But that hadn't helped him get back _up_ to his terra.

So here he was, wandering around aimlessly in the Wastelands wondering if any of his neighbors had survived (probably not), whether Terra Merbia had been conquered by the Cyclonians (most likely), and whether or not there were any deadly parasites growing on the rock he sat on (most definitely).

He looked down at the dirtied screwdriver and blooded wrench in his hand. He'd always been very hesitant to fight anyone, but it was not because he couldn't. He was just afraid of being killed. A very valid reason, even for someone who wasn't so paranoid.

In fact, he couldn't help laughing to himself as he thought of it. He didn't really have any family, and no one was close enough to him to be called a true "friend." The other Merbs thought he was strange. "You're so adventurous, Stork," they often say. "You're too optimistic." Oh, they were a gloomy bunch, alright, and Stork wasn't always gloomy enough for them.

Well, Stork was certain he was doomed. But he was _not_ just going to sit here and waste away! He was going to do something to help himself, or his name wasn't Stork!

And there was that danged optimism again.

He got to his feet and looked around. There was nothing but fire and stone every direction he looked. The heat was pleasant for a cold-blooded animal, and his nearly-reptilian eyes adjusted well to the blinding light of the lava. If he could just find some food and water, he could make it here for a little while, despite the poisonous air.

So, thinking about the different ways this place could doom him, Stork wandered out into the land of fire.

* * *

Author's Notes: Yes, I gave Aerrow and Grimsley a history! I wanted to put some villain interaction, and since Aerrow didn't know any other villains personally before the series began, he seemed like a good candidate.

And Stork appears for the first time! His role is not all that major yet, but I'm trying to write this in chronological order, so he'll probably just pop up every now and then when he does something significant. And he will. Trust me.


	8. Chapter 7: Hope in a New Face

Chapter 7: Hope in a New Face

_They leave us so to the way we took,/As two in whom they were proved mistaken,/That we sit sometimes in the wayside nook,/With mischievous, vagrant, seraphic look,/And try if we cannot feel forsaken_.

~Robert Frost, "In Neglect"

Days passed, and both Aerrow and Radarr were thankful to see that Grimsley was not in their chain gang again for awhile. Aerrow didn't see him in the crowded mess hall anymore, either, although he wasn't exactly looking for him. He and Radarr weren't eager to see their new "friend" anytime soon.

Yet the more he thought about it, the more Aerrow wished he could hear what Grimsley was searching for. He asked a few friendly people (or at least, other prisoners who didn't seem inclined to yell at or hit him), but no one had an answer. Then again, it had occurred to Aerrow that maybe this "release" from this prison mine was only for teenagers, like the boy Grimsley was talking about. He tried eavesdropping to gain information, but he learned nothing new except for unnecessary gossip that he wasn't interested in.

Four days after his first meeting with Grimsley, the burly boy caught sight of him in the mess hall again. "Hey, Aerrow!" he called out. "You and Radarr sit with me!"

Aerrow looked around as many heads turned Grimsley's direction and then looking around at him. Great, Aerrow thought. Now everyone would think he and Radarr were on friendly terms with Grimsley, including those Grimsley picked on.

All the same, he and Radarr plodded grudgingly over to Grimsley, if only to see if he knew anything new. Apparently he didn't because that was the first thing he asked Aerrow about.

"Nothing," Aerrow answered. "I've been thinking about what you said, though. Maybe they do it to people who are 'reformed' and put them in conquered areas or something."

"Say what? Don't use big words," Grimsley scolded, stuffing his fat face like a pig.

Aerrow rolled his eyes at his stupidity. "Reformed isn't that big of a word. It's only . . ." Aerrow stopped, blinking in confusion and spelling the word in his head. He was never great at spelling. ". . . six or seven letters. Something like that."

"It makes you sound like a nerd," Grimsley pointed out, grinning like a fool.

Aerrow ignored the comment.

After awhile, Grimsley stared in a certain direction. An evil smirk began to spread over his face, slow and thoughtful. Not sure what made him have such a malicious expression, Aerrow looked over to see he had targeted another boy, a blond one about their own age. He was a squirrelly thing in startled blue eyes and a habit of holding his head up high, his expression looking as if he was trying to be "cool." Those were always traits that made Grimsley want to put others in their place.

And when Aerrow glanced down at Grimsley's plate, he saw it was empty. And the other blond boy's was full.

_Not again._

But Grimsley was already getting up from the table and heading toward the blond boy.

_Leave him alone,_ Aerrow thought. _Just leave him alone._ His fists were clenched. At some moment he comprehended the fact that he had gotten to his feet.

Grimsley cornered the boy and starting talk to him, casually at first. But then the blue-eyed boy looked angry and sheltered his plate from Grimsley, glaring at him. Grimsley started getting angry and agitated. Before long he was raising his fist.

Aerrow didn't know when he started walking, but he knew it must have been some time earlier for him to have closed the distance from himself and the oncoming fight so quickly. Behind him he could hear the skittering paws of a frantic, worried Radarr.

Just as Grimsley raised his fist to punch the blue-eyed boy in the face and the boy was cringing and about to hand his plate over, Aerrow intervened, grabbing Grimsley's fist and slowly lowering it. "Don't you think you've had plenty?" he asked Grimsley. He tried to sound calm, but he knew what this would come to.

Grimsley started smirking but now looked nervous. After all, someone was standing up to him. "C'mon, Aerrow," he said. "I was just getting something for us to share."

"And what's he going to eat?" Aerrow asked, gesturing toward the other boy with his head.

"You just don't get it, do you, Aerrow?"

"I get enough," Aerrow answered as he lowered Grimsley's fist.

Radarr squeaked in fright, making Aerrow glance around. A crowd was starting to gather to see the fallout between the two boys. The boy who Grimsley had been after was backing up nervously to join the crowd.

"Keep this up," Grimsley threatened, "and you can kiss this friendship goodbye." He smirked. "And then I won't let you in on my little secret when I find out."

"I won't need your secret," Aerrow growled back.

Grimsley snarled and looked ready to fight, but then he glanced down at Radarr, who was at Aerrow's feet by now, his fur standing on end, his ears lying flat against his skull, and his teeth bared.

After studying him a moment, Grimsley said, "You know, we could settle this the way all great men settle disputes." He held up a fist, smirking at the thought of a fair fight. "But we'd have to do it sportsmanlike."

Aerrow crossed his arms. "I'll be as sportsmanlike as you've been to all the people you've stolen from."

"I've given 'em a fair chance," Grimsley argued. "And I plan on giving you a fair chance. But see, if your little animal there gangs up on me with you, then it's not a fair fight, now is it?"

Aerrow didn't call Radarr off. "I'm not looking for a fight," he said. "I just figure all of us should get a chance to eat." Seeing as the boy was out of Grimsley's threatening shadow by now, Aerrow turned to walk away.

"Chicken!" Grimsley called at him.

Aerrow stopped and clenched his fists. Slowly he looked over his shoulder and glowered at Grimsley. What did he just say?

"Yeah, that's right!" Grimsley jeered back. "You heard me! You're too cowardly to fight unless your little . . . _thing_ is able to back you up!"

That did it! "Radarr," Aerrow growled at his friend, "stay here." Whoops and howls of excitement rang out, accompanied only by a small whimper, as Aerrow turned around and stomped back to Grimsley. Alone.

Grimsley blinked as if he hadn't expected Aerrow to take his bait. But he quickly caught himself and then balled his hands into fists, readying himself.

Aerrow stood calm and loose. He knew that in a battle of strength, he'd lose. He'd have to use those skills he had once when he was living wild and free. His heart pounded in his ears, but most of it wasn't from fear; it was from anger. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he said to Grimsley, "Go ahead. You called the fight, you take the first shot."

Grimsley smirked at the invitation and just stood there. Then, trying to be quick and subtle, he swung as fist at Aerrow's face as quickly as he could.

But there was nothing subtle about Grimsley's clumsy movement, and Aerrow quickly ducked out of the way of his fist. Angry he'd missed, Grimsley kept coming while Aerrow kept dodging. One attempt at escape sent him sprawling onto the ground. Luckily his momentum meant he could somersault onto his feet again, making it look as if he had meant to fall. He was angry enough now to make his move, and unable to get close enough to use his hands, he kicked at Grimsley, striking at his legs.

Grimsley collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

Aerrow reached for his collar, trying to get Grimsley to call it, but the bulkier boy then grabbed Aerrow in a death grip. The two went rolling on the floor struggling against one another. The horrible thing was, this was exactly where Aerrow knew he didn't want to be. If he was pinned, he was done for.

When he was the one on top again, instead of trying to hold Grimsley down while Grimsley tried to roll them over again, Aerrow leapt to his feet. Angrier than ever, Grimsley tried to clamber up, but Aerrow punched him as soon as he was up. Grimsley went down again.

At that point, there stood Aerrow, who hadn't been struck once yet, over Grimsley, whose eye was starting to swell. It was pretty clear by everyone, even Aerrow, who couldn't quite believe it, that Aerrow was the victor.

Aerrow gave Grimsley a warning glare before walking away, disappointing the crowd who had wanted to see someone get truly beaten up.

Grimsley was shocked, too, and his rage was immeasurable. His fat race was turning red with fury as he shouted after Aerrow. "What's the matter? Too much for ya? Why don't you finish it? You heard me! Finish it!"

But Aerrow kept walking with Radarr following behind. He hadn't come to hurt anyone, and he didn't plan on it.

That was too much for Grimsley's pride to bear. He clambered up, snatched an empty plate out of one of the spectator's hands, and ran at Aerrow with it, intent on slamming it into his head.

But then another plate hit Grimsley before that could happen.

Aerrow and Radarr whirled around at the crash just as Grimsley landed at their feet.

Aerrow blinked in surprise. It was the blue-eyed boy whose dinner he had saved. Apparently the guy had flung a plate just at the right moment. Now he had his hands on his hips, grinning like an idiot at his feat. "Hah, see!" the blue-eyed boy said to both of them. "That's what you get from trying to steal from the Finnster, dude!"

Groaning, Grimsley got up and growled at him.

Seeing this, the boy pointed off behind him. "I think I'll, uh, you know, go." And with that, he sprinted toward them, leapt over Grimsley, grabbed Aerrow's arm and hauled him away with Radarr sprinting after them. Some of Grimsley's friends started to help Grimsley to his feet. Grimsley watched the trio go with revenge in his eyes.

* * *

The blue-eyed boy didn't stop running until they were within a prison cell . . . which, all things considered, wasn't that far since all the prison cells opened up to the mess hall. Between huffs, the boy looked over at Aerrow and said, "Thanks, dude. That was some sweet moves!"

Aerrow was still trying to catch his breath and take in all that just happened. "You really think so?" he asked once he began to get his breath back.

"Yeah!" the other boy answered enthusiastically. "He had a right, then left, and a right, but he couldn't touch ya, dude. It was awesome!"

"Uh," Aerrow rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably at the fanfare, "thanks?"

"No, thank _you_! You save my butt out there!"

Aerrow gave him a sad smile as he noticed one little detail.

"What?"

"You didn't eat. That ruined the whole point of that."

The boy blew through his lips dismissively. "You kidding? That was totally worth it! See if that bully is gonna mess with anyone again after that show! People will start taking a stand now, you know?"

Aerrow hadn't thought of that. He smiled to himself. Maybe he had just made a difference.

"'Course," the boy added, "he and his gang will be after you now."

Aerrow glared at him. Of course he knew that. And he didn't need to be reminded.

The boy seemed oblivious to Aerrow's glare and just as squirrelly and excitable as ever. In fact, he reminded Aerrow of someone on a sugar rush. "I'm Finn, by the way." He offered his hand. "Nice to meet you, dude."

Aerrow took his hand. "Aerrow," he answered as he shook. He gestured to his left. "And that's Radarr."

Radarr, who was standing on his hind legs, churred in greeting and stretched his head up toward Finn curiously.

Finn smiled. "Oh, yeah! You're the kid with the critter!"

Radarr growled at the description.

Aerrow crossed his arms, feeling amused. "So that's what I'm known for, huh?" he said.

Finn stared down at Radarr before cringing nervously. Pointing at Radarr, he asked, "Uh, why is he growling and looking at me like that?"

"He prefers to be called by his name, not 'critter.'"

"_Oh,_" Finn said, relaxing. "He understands us?"

Looking exasperated, Radarr put his paws on his hips indignantly and nodded, all the while still glowering at Finn.

"My bad, Radarr," Finn said immediately.

Letting him know that he wasn't getting off easy, Radarr slunk around behind Aerrow's legs.

Finn rubbed his neck. "So . . . what're ya in for?"

That was a question no one else posed for Aerrow, and one he never thought to ask. It was accepted here that people didn't ask about where someone else came from.

And now Aerrow knew why. He was once again a little boy on Terra Nimbus. But those visions were blurry. More clearly remembered were the ones of many ruined towns, years spent with Old Timer and the friends he had made on that terra, and then the exhausting chase Lance and Gos had given before he and Radarr were too exhausted to run.

Twiddling his fingers as he thought about how to answer, Aerrow tried to clear the lump in his throat.

"Oh," Finn said, noticing his distress, "I mean . . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't've—"

"It's okay," Aerrow answered, smiling warmly. He knew Finn didn't mean anything by his question. "I . . . I was brought here. I don't have a crime . . . unless living is it."

"That's the way it was with me, too," Finn said. "They attacked the terra and took me away. Next thing you know, I'm stuck in this dump. I never liked my parents much, but . . . Well, you miss 'em and you wonder about 'em."

"Yeah," Aerrow answered, thinking once again of Terra Nimbus. Unlike Finn, he didn't wonder. He knew. He knew too much.

"So . . . I'm sort of new here, but I just got to know: Are we going to work hard _every _day?"

Aerrow laughed at the question. It was so grim and true that he couldn't help but find it funny. "Yeah," he said. "Every day. You get used to it after awhile."

Finn rolled his eyes and groaned. "I hate work," he grumbled. "You know what I'm going to miss most? Watching TV. That was fun! And now, every day, I'm going to miss my favorite cartoons, dude!"

Aerrow thought there was no way he could contain his laughter at that, especially since Finn seemed so solemn about it. If only he had so little problems that he would worry about missing his favorite cartoons. Unfortunately, there were more important things out there that Aerrow knew Finn would start to miss.

* * *

Stork knew he missed a lot of things.

He missed being able to read his book about all types of different diseases (he had memorized it, but that was beside the point). He missed being able to have a steady supply of food and water. And he _really _wished fresh air. He was certain the air he was breathing now was going to mean a slow, painful death before the day was out. Okay, maybe a year. Okay, a decade. Okay, decades, but the point is, _slow_, painful death.

He grumbled as he walked, cursing his luck, wishing he was back on Terra Merbia locked up in his safe, booby-trapped house. He was never one to wander much. His limp that the Cyclonians had given him was slowing him down, and the slower pace annoyed him, even though he knew he was only limping toward his doom.

That's when he saw her.

She was a wreck. She sat on her side, parts of her falling off. Her engine looked completely blown. The frontal window was shattered, and the landing stripe had a large hole in it.

She was the most beautiful thing Stork had ever seen!

Stork took a step toward the ship hardly daring to believe his eyes. This couldn't be what he thought it was. Legends had been told about her strength, her grace, and her speed, and the people she had carried had been as legendary as herself. She was the _Condor_, pride of her engineer, champion race winner, proven battleship, and the none other than the flagship for the mighty Storm Hawks!

And she was just lying out here, unattended! How rude!

Stork went right up to the ship, placing a hand on her darkened hide. She would need some fixing up, certainly, but she was still the _Condor_, the greatest ship every built. And now she would be Stork's sanctuary, giving him a safe place to stay and running water . . . once he got the water working again.

_If_ he ever got it working again. As in, _if_ he didn't get eaten or caught in a volcanic explosion or suffer from some sort of incurable disease or have the ship fell apart or . . .

Or couldn't get the hatch open.

The dang thing wouldn't budge!

Stork tried his hardest to yank the door open, pulling on the outside handle with all his might. Absolutely no response whatsoever. In a desperate attempt, he leapt up onto the ship, braced his feet against its hull on either side of the hatch, and pulled with all the strength he had.

The hatch popped open . . . and fell on top of Stork.

Stork screamed and slammed into the ground. Well, he thought, looking up at the ship, they really _should_ have a label on this door that says, "Warning: Door opens downward!"

Within moments after his recovery, the Merb was up and walking through the ship. She was old and rustic, not very pretty at all, and just like her outside, spots on her insides were blackened with sulfur. But Stork figured all she needed was some oil and some washing, and she'd be good as new! Unless, of course, there was something dangerous living in here, like baby magma beasts, fire scorpions, mindworms . . .

He stopped short when he came to the bridge.

He'd definitely meant to come to the bridge. After all, here he could assess her best. But he hadn't been prepared for the sight that met his eyes.

There was a skeleton at the helm. Its leathery uniform was in tatters—not from injury but from decomposition—and the flesh had long since been eaten away.

Stork shivered. He'd seen lots of dead before—besides the Cyclonian invasion, he had lived on the inhospitable Terra Merbia. But this was somehow . . . different. This skeleton, though obviously old, was here alone, unburied, uncared for. Like this was its haunting place. Like this was where it belonged.

Stork slowly crept toward the skeleton. He didn't really think it would jump to life and attack him, but one can't be too sure.

He slowly reached out his hands and wrapped his cold fingers around the shoulder blades. Gulping, he slowly pulled it back.

Then he screamed in fright, leapt back, ran for the round table, and jumped behind it as the skeleton fell apart in his hands.

Moments later, he peered back over the table, his heart pounding a mile a minute. Not only were the bones falling apart, but Stork couldn't see a sternum among the bones. Apparently the ribcage had been shattered. The person's death, though painful, must have been short.

Stork was probably going to end up like that poor figure, he thought. Not by the same death, but just being the skeleton found at the helm. If anyone ever found this ship.

But as Stork's heartbeat slowed, he looked down at the bones in pity. He wouldn't give up, if only for the _Condor_'s sake. She was the greatest ship of all time. He couldn't abandon her. And he had a feeling that the unknown figure on the floor wouldn't want that, either.

It took all of his self-control, but Stork was able to pick of the bones and carefully set as many pieces as he could in a blanket (some of them he had to sweep up with a broom). But he felt dismayed. He couldn't bury them, as was proper.

He took the bones in a blanket out to the coast of one of the lava rivers, getting as close as he dared. Then he threw the blanket into the river and cremated the lost soul's remains. It was all he could do.

It was like the passing of the torch. The _Condor_'s new pilot had come.

* * *

Author's Notes: And now we have Finn! Yes, this is the first origin story I've written for _Storm Hawks_ in which Aerrow meets Finn before he meets Piper. I don't know why that matters, but I'll point it out anyway.

And Stork returns again! Yay, Stork! Although I'm not as good at getting into his head as I am with Aerrow.

Okay, next chapter up soon!


	9. Chapter 8: I'd Rather Die

Chapter 8: "I'd Rather Die"

_Stubborn can make you determined. Sometimes, bravery and determination can take you to the same place by the end of the day._

~ Terri Farley, _Phantom Stallion Book 19: Secret Star_

Having Finn around was nice for Aerrow and Radarr. Now the two had something to look forward to when they stepped outside their cell. They had fun, hanging out and joking and laughing when they could. Often, much to the boys' liking, they were placed in the same chain gang. On days when punishments were being dueled out or some of the other boys were sick, the entire chain gang could be composed of the trio.

The guards did get wind of the fight between Aerrow and Grimsley. Both boys were taken aside. That was a cause for whipping among adults, but the Talons were easier on anyone under sixteen. The boys simply got paddled. Aerrow could feel the bruises on his back for days. However, never again did Aerrow and Radarr have to contend with Grimsley being on the same chain. The guards knew better than to put the two boys together again after that.

Finn had the same way of talking while he worked and the same inclination _not_ to work as Grimsley had, but Aerrow noticed certain profound differences. Whereas Finn sometimes just seemed obtuse to other's feelings, he seemed to actually care about what he managed to notice. He didn't smirk at other's misfortune. And he got caught very easily whenever he stopped working.

And he complained. A lot.

He didn't like the food there (no one did, but Aerrow didn't feel inclined to point that out). He missed his television. He missed playing guitar and listening to his favorite rock bands.

As the days grew on, however, Finn's eyes darkened, and so did his chipper attitude. Aerrow had seen it all before. He was getting used to life here.

His complaints changed. Now, instead of missing his TV shows, he missed the sunlight. Instead missing his music, he missed his family.

And he was hungry. He was _always_ hungry. And that was all he would talk about sometimes. It drove Aerrow crazy, especially since he had been living on a half-empty stomach half his life. But who could blame the guy? Finn obviously had an easier start. He'd never had to contend with true hunger before. It must have been a shock to him.

Days turned into weeks. Finn still hung close to Aerrow and Radarr. He almost got beat up by one of the older boys in the mess hall. Aerrow and Radarr backed him up. At that point, Finn's trust seemed to lie only with the two of them.

"There's some good guys in here," Aerrow assured Finn. "They're just scared to approach anyone, like you are."

"I haven't met them," Finn grumbled. "Besides, I'm not scared!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

Radarr churred and nodded, agreeing with Aerrow.

Finn glared at him. "You always take his side!"

Radarr put his forepaws on his hips and smirked as if to say, _That's what I do!_

Some days later, Aerrow, Radarr, and Finn were eating together in the mess hall as usual when Finn looked up. "Uh oh," he said.

Aerrow blinked at him. "What?"

"Trouble at one o'clock." He pointed behind Aerrow.

Aerrow turned around.

Grimsley was walking their way. And this time, he had a posse. Two boys were with him; one of them, the one who was about a year or two older than them, had hair that was much as a mope as Aerrow's own, only purple, as opposed to the more around their age, who had blue hair that splayed in all directions. Aerrow had seen them before with Grimsley but not like this, stalking around together like a pack on the prowl.

Grimsley's eyes were dead on him and he was heading straight for him. But he didn't look angry; in fact, he had a knowing smirk on his face. For some reason, Aerrow wished he was angry instead. That smirk was giving him the creeps.

Grimsley came up and leaned his elbow on the table next to Aerrow. "Hey there, Aerrow and Radarr," he greeted them, his smirk never leaving his face. He turned to greet Finn the same way, but as he did, he faltered. "And . . . Blondie?"

"Finn," Finn huffed.

"Whatever."

Finn rolled his eyes.

Aerrow didn't look up at Grimsley; he knew that was exactly how Grimsley wanted him to see him, looking up. Instead, he glared down at the table as he spoke. "What do ya want, Grimsley?"

Grimsley's smirk widened. "I found the secret," he said.

"What secret?" asked Finn, staring blankly at Aerrow.

"A secret that Grimsley wasn't going to bother telling me anyway, so I don't know why he's here," Aerrow answered tartly. He wasn't in the mood to be fooled around with, and he just wished Grimsley would go away.

But Grimsley just laughed. "Now what makes you think I wasn't going to tell you? I came all the way over here just for that. You're still welcome to join my buddies and me in using it. But I doubt you'll want to."

Doubt he'd _want_ to? Aerrow's curiosity got the better of him. He turned to Grimsley, his arms crossed. "Okay," he said, "enlighten me. How do you plan on getting out of here?"

Grimsley sat down immediately, shushing him. "Not so loud," he said, still smirking. "Some of these older guys might get a little jealous."

Aerrow waited, still glaring. Radarr's hackles were raised. Finn let out a squeak of fright as Grimsley's friends sat down on either side of him.

Grimsley's smirk had grown so wide that Aerrow couldn't see how it could possibly fit on his fat, ugly face. "Young folks like us are allowed our freedom," he said, "if we create a Cyclonian Youth Brigade."

_Cyclonian _Youth Brigade? Aerrow knew just from the name that he wouldn't approve. But he just had to ask. "What's that?"

"The first step to being a Talon, when you come from places like this, that is," he said. "They're collecting youths from everywhere—prisons, conquered terras, their own terras, even outsiders—and getting them to form fighting unites for the empire. No prison record, no guards, nothing. You're just expected to do your job. Once a Talon commander approves your work, you get to become full-fledged Talons. You betray them while you're at it, though," he added, "and they'll hunt you down."

There was silence. Finn was trembling in between the two burly boys on either side of him. Aerrow and Radarr were still staring at Grimsley.

Grimsley was the one to break the silence. "So, what do you think?" he asked. "You come with us, and we'll forget about our little disagreement earlier, and it'll all be fun!"

"You're crazy," Aerrow grunted, turning away from Grimsley.

"Come on," Grimsley insisted. "You really hate the idea of being a Talon that much?"

Talons. Aerrow gripped his spoon so hard that his knuckle turned white. He would _never _be one of those monsters! "I'd rather die," he said aloud.

Grimsley just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I figured that'd be your answer. Come on, boys." He gestured to his companions, who promptly stood up, making Finn gasp again.

But before they left, Grimsley looked down at Aerrow and gave him one last message. "I know you're type," he said. "You might want to be careful with that phrase. Sometimes dying happens to people trying to play hero."

"Well," Aerrow answered, smirking, "I guess I'll just have to stop playing and get serious about it."

Grimsley just smirked. "One of these days, you'll be crow food." He turned to leave. "See ya!"

"Yeah!" his blue-haired companion echoed. "See ya, crow food!"

As they walked away, they could hear Grimsley scolding him. "Kite! What did I tell you?"

"Let you do the talking?" Kite answered tentatively.

"That's right, you idiot!" Grimsley answered him.

They walked out of earshot.

Finn just looked at Aerrow. "Do me a favor, will ya?"

"What's that?" Aerrow asked.

"Don't ever call me an idiot."

Aerrow smiled at that. "Long as you don't act like one."

Then it was Finn's turn to smile. "Come on!" he said. "When is," he did his pistol fingers, "the Finnster ever an idiot?"

Aerrow and Radarr exchanged glances, holding in snickers.

"What?" Finn asked, bewildered.

"Oh, nothing," Aerrow said. His and Radarr's smirks were anything but innocent.

Still confused, Finn tilted his head to the side. "Are you two making fun of me?"

At that moment, the bell rang for everyone to go their cells. Social time was over for today.

* * *

The next day, Aerrow, Radarr, and Finn were in the same chain gang once again. Another boy was hooked up with them, one about fourteen years old or so. As they set out, Finn was grinning madly about something. Aerrow didn't like that grin. It usually meant Finn had caused or was going to cause trouble.

Finn had once tried to put a whoopee cushion (heaven knows how he got hold of that) on a guard's chair. He got his hand smacked by the back of a staff as reward. When he boasted to other boys about how strong he was, he ended up head-first in a trash can in the mess hall. And he did all these stupid things just so he'd look "cool." And still other times he simply did something blatantly dumb, like not watching where his pickax fell and jabbing himself in the toe.

He was cocky. He was boastful. He was completely full of himself. He was a showoff. And he had nothing to back it up. It was always a recipe for disaster.

And Finn's smug smile meant he was up to something again.

Once they had begun their work and the guards were out of earshot, Aerrow turned to Finn. "What're you grinnin' about?" he asked.

Finn held up a nametag as he said his signature phrase, "Chica-cha!"

Aerrow's eyes widened. It was a _Talon's_ nametag.

Finn was still grinning. "Are you gonna ask me which guard?"

Aerrow stared at him in shock. "No, Finn," he answered. "I'm going to tell you that you're just plain crazy."

Finn grinned. "I know."

"Not the good kind of crazy!"

"Well, that's the only crazy I could possibly be! Besides, once word gets around what I did—"

"—the guards'll find out, and you'll be punished!"

"Nah, dude! The guards won't find out. And I'll be a sensation!" He handed the nametag to Aerrow as if to gloat over his victory.

Aerrow couldn't help but notice that the teenager with them turned to them with interest.

Afraid that Finn might not be too careful with the nametag, Aerrow started to bury it.

And Finn was right. Word spread quickly . . . probably with Finn's prompting. In the mess hall, all the prisoners were patting him on the back even as they kept their mouths shut, just in case guards were near.

But then things went terribly wrong.

A horn was blown. All the prisoners looked around, flustered. The horn meant to stand at attention. But the dinner at the mess hall had always been a time to themselves. The only reason they would call for the prisoners to line up then was to give them a speech . . . normally about some new application to the defenses, a problem, and/or a punishment.

Aerrow exchanged glances with Radarr and then looked over at Finn. Finn gulped.

With all the prisoners lined up, the warden stepped out. He was a skinny little man they called Buteo, but he had an attitude that made up for his lack of mass. His face was stern and cold as he paced back and forth in front of the line with his hands behind his back, his black moustache twitching.

At last, he stopped and stood straight and tall, studying them all with the eyes of a cougar about to spring on his prey. "Earlier today," he said, "I received word that one of our guards had lost his nametag."

Aerrow stiffened and looked at Finn out of the corner of his eye. They must know it was stolen for them to be telling the prisoners this. Did they know it was Finn? Would they catch him if they didn't? Aerrow felt his heart start to race.

Judging from Finn's chattering teeth and his pale face, he felt even worse.

Buteo continued on. "At first," he claimed, "I assumed it was the Talon's own error, but then I became aware of a strange rumor going around of a thief among us."

Although everyone knew better than to make a sound, everyone seemed to inhale as if to make a silent gasp. Who had let the rumor fall on Talons' ears?

Aerrow glanced out of the corner of his eye down the line at Grimsley. He had a feeling he knew.

"Stealing is bad enough, but to steal an object such as this is a serious offense," the warden continued. "So unless it is revealed to us who this thief is, no one will be getting any supper for the next three nights."

Three nights? Aerrow glared at the man without turning his head. They were already going hungry as it was!

So, of course, someone had to pipe up. "Him, sir!" one of the boys said, pointing at Finn. "It's him!"

Aerrow looked over to see who it was. Of course it was of Grimsley's group. The younger blue-haired boy; Aerrow seemed to remember his name being Kite.

Buteo followed Kite's finger until he was standing in front of Finn. Finn was trembling.

"You?" the warden asked.

"N-n-no . . ." Finn stammered.

But Buteo wasn't buying it. "Son," the warden said, "you know the punishment dealt with thieves?"

Finn nodded. Everyone knew. A thief was whipped by an energy whip. But that punishment wasn't given to anyone under sixteen. Was it?

"For a child thief," the warden said, "we have the alternative."

The paddle. Aerrow remembered from his punishment for his fight with Grimsley.

Taking a breath, Aerrow knew what he had to do. "Sir?"

Buteo turned to him, his face set in a snarl as if prepared to discipline someone speaking out of line.

But Aerrow lifted his head. He knew Buteo well enough to know that the Talon wouldn't believe him unless he looked him in the eye. "Finn didn't do it, sir. I did."

Buteo turned to him. He looked him over with a critical eye and then said, "I don't believe you."

"I buried it," Aerrow insisted. "I can tell you where it is."

Buteo looked down by Aerrow's side and seemed to recognize Radarr, who revealed his teeth in a snarl.

The warden looked up at Aerrow again. "Well, well, I know you. Our little brawler, the one with the working pet."

Radarr growled aloud at that.

Thankfully Buteo ignored him, still staring steadily at Aerrow. "I knew from the moment you stepped in here that you and that beast were trouble." He turned around. "Guards, take him. We've got our thief."

* * *

It wasn't like the time he got in a fight. Not at all.

The Talon guards were used to people getting in fights. They inflicted the painful punishment and then sent them back to work.

But what Aerrow allegedly did this time was worse than a mere fight. He was said to have stolen a nametag, which was a Talon's identity, assignment, and key for opening and closing doors. He might as well have stolen the keys to the main gate. It'd be just as serious.

They paddled him. And they used the guy who did the whippings for the paddle. He hit hard. Very hard. But Aerrow could get over that.

He was angry, though, that the whip man had laughed at his dismay and then punched him in the face. It was for no other reason than to "have fun." If Aerrow wasn't tied up, he was sure he would have socked the guy back. He was that mad.

What he absolutely hated was the confinement.

He was locked up in a dark room with only a drain in the middle of the floor. He was sent to be in there for thirty-six hours with no food or water. And no light was allowed in the room.

When the Talons had put him in, they had first taunted him at the door. "What's the matter, boy?" the whip man had said. "You hungry? Too bad you can't have anything, yeah? I'm gonna have a nice, juicy steak tonight. How 'bout you?"

Aerrow just ignored him until the infuriating man left him alone in blackness.

So Aerrow sat in the dark, shivering, sore, and hungry, his throat dry with thirst. For the first and last time, he decided that maybe picking up a pickax to dig wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Finn said few things to Aerrow when he was finally sent back to work, other than a repeated "I'm sorry" over the course of their time together for the next few days. Every time Aerrow winced from pain, Finn grimaced. And the first night he was back, when Aerrow had cleaned his plate and still felt lightheaded, Finn had given him half of his own dinner. Radarr did the same for him. But Aerrow insisted on not taking any of it.

Days passed without much talk. Radarr kept putting a paw on Aerrow's knee tentatively, but he never got a real response from his boy. Finn just kept swallowing as if he had a constant lump in his throat.

Aerrow wasn't trying to shut them out. But he had to think.

Five days after Aerrow returned to work, Finn was sitting across from Aerrow in the mess hall, looking down at his plate with disinterest. At last, he looked up at Aerrow. "Look, dude, I know I screwed up, but . . . are you always gonna be mad?"

Aerrow blinked in surprise at the question, woken from a reverie. "What? Mad?" He thought Finn's question over. "Aw, Finn, don't worry about that. I'm mad but not at you."

Finn blinked in surprise. "Who, then?"

Radarr met Aerrow's eyes. He knew. The enemy: Cyclonians.

Aerrow leaned forward over the table toward Finn. "I can't take it anymore," he said.

"Take what?"

"This!" Aerrow gestured all around him. "I can't take anymore of it."

"But there's nothing we can do about it, is there?" Finn asked. "And don't start you're whole 'I'd rather die' thing. We get the point. And personally, dude, I like you living."

Aerrow narrowed his eyes in determination. A bright, green fire was burning in them. He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. "We could _escape!_"

Finn looked at him dubiously. "And _how_ do you suppose we do _that?_"

Aerrow smirked. "Finn," he said, "do you remember me telling you about the Fire Pit?"

Finn's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Then he started shaking his head vehemently. "No! No, no, no, no, no, no! No way! You're crazy, dude! I won't do it! No!"

But Aerrow just kept on smirking. And Radarr was grinning at the idea, too.

Finn shook his head. "We are _so_ dead!"

* * *

Author's Notes: Hmm . . . I can't really comment on this chapter. You guys sort of see the foreshadowing here, so I'll just leave you to review it.

Yup, no Stork this time. Don't give me that look! He'll come back! Eventually . . .


	10. Chapter 9: The Only Way

Chapter 9: The Only Way

_Have I not walked without an upward look/Of caution under stars that very well/Might not have missed me when they shot and fell?/It was a risk I had to take—and took._

~Robert Frost, "Five Nocturnes III. Bravado"

Aerrow hadn't planned on just jumping into this. No, he had to plan things out. First, every time they were in Tunnel 13, the tunnel that leads off to the tunnel with the Fire Pit (which, according to Finn, was a bad sign), they were to listen. They were to study the patterns that the eruptions came and went. Hopefully there were certain times when it was active and certain times when it wasn't.

Unfortunately, the one thing they learned through this observation was that the eruptions were unprecedented, unplanned, and certainly not on a particular schedule.

"So that means we can't do it, right?" Finn had asked.

Aerrow smirked confidently. "We'll just have to wing it."

"We're gonna be fried." Radarr churred in agreement, for once siding with Finn instead of Aerrow.

Aerrow just lifted and eyebrow, still smirking. "You're both so _negative_," he stressed at them.

"Hey!" Finn exclaimed. "I'm not negative!" Then he thought about that. "Uh, what exactly does that mean again?"

Radarr rolled his eyes and face-palmed at Finn's obvious stupidity.

So, with that decided, Aerrow knew they needed supplies, like food and water.

"And how are we supposed to get _that?_" Finn asked. "And what will we carry it in?"

"Good point," Aerrow agreed. "Guess that kills that idea."

"It's the Wastelands, man!" Finn reminded him, as if he needed reminding. "We'll starve!"

"We'll manage."

Finn just blinked at him a moment. "Dude, you've totally lost it."

Aerrow just smirked. Finn was really getting tired of him smirking.

So in the end, the boys decided they were going to escape in the middle of the night with no supplies, no particular plan . . . just the nametag.

The Talons had neglected to ever ask Aerrow where he had buried it. So, now that they needed it, Aerrow dug it up. Thank goodness everything was crystal-powered instead of using old-fashioned lock and key. Now they had their way of opening security doors . . . like the doors to their cells.

Everything was set, or as set as they ever would be. As night settled on the prison and everyone went to their beds, the plan was underway.

Long after the doors had been shut, Aerrow lay awake, waiting, listening to the sounds around him. Radarr was next to him with ears pricked, looking like a gray statue in the darkness. At last, he nudged Aerrow's arm.

Aerrow knew what that meant. Radarr had heard nothing out of the ordinary. It was time to go.

Tiptoeing to the door with Radarr hanging off his back and his extra clothes under one arm in the bag he had brought them in, Aerrow reached through the bars of the window on his door and stretch his arm out as far as he could, nametag in hand. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to reach far enough for the nametag to go over the sensor and open the door. Aerrow reached until his arm was strained; he couldn't let them fail because of this one little detail.

Straining with everything in him and nearly dislocating his shoulder, Aerrow still couldn't get the door to open. Desperate, he jump, jarring Radarr into squeaking.

To Aerrow's relief, the jump worked. The scanner beeped, and the door clanked open, echoing in the cave-like prison. Aerrow staggered forward as the door swung open with his arm still hooked through the bars of the window. In mid-swing, he pulled his arm free, banging his funny bone. Now out, he stood quivering and holding his tingling elbow, rubbing it and looking around.

If Radarr's squeak didn't wake anyone, Aerrow knew the beep from the scanner and the clank of the door would. Heart pounding, Aerrow froze, and Radarr went still on top of him, his little fingers and claws digging into Aerrow's shoulders. They waited in silence, ready in case any guards started running their way.

But there wasn't a sound except for someone snoring softly in the next cell. They stood for what seemed like eternity before Radarr nudged Aerrow again. Aerrow was hesitant, but he trusted Radarr's more sensitive ears. He started forward, heading toward Finn's cell.

When they reached it, they heard soft snoring and murmuring from within. Finn must be sound asleep. Shaking his head and wondering how anyone could sleep at a time like this, Aerrow put the nametag over the scanner. With another clang, the door swung open, Aerrow catching it.

The sound woke Finn from what must have been a sound sleep. He sat upward with a loud, "Huh? Wha—?"

Thankfully Radarr dashed in, leaped onto Finn's bed, grabbed his head, and put a paw over his mouth to keep from talking, all without making a sound.

Aerrow rolled his eyes and followed, glaring down at Finn, who looked between him and Radarr with startled eyes. Laying his fingers over his lips and shushing him, he said, "Ya wanna wake the whole prison?"

With Radarr's paw still over his mouth, Finn shook his head.

"Then quiet!"

Finn nodded. Radarr let him go.

Finn grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, dude," he whispered. "Fell asleep." He squinted at him. "You move ghost-like. Make your hair white instead of red, you could be a ghost."

Aerrow shushed him again. They weren't going to make any more sounds than they needed to.

They finally got past the cells and were heading down into the mining tunnel when they heard a voice. "And where do ya think you're going?"

Aerrow and Finn whirled around. Aerrow's eyes widened in surprise. "Who's there?"

The mope-haired boy who stood in the shadows had his arms crossed, and he blew upward at his crazy purple hair to get it out of his face. He was part of Grimsley's group, the older boy. "Twister," he answered. His eyes stared at them hard.

Finn looked astonished. "How'd you get out?"

"There's a hole in my cell behind the toilet," he explained. "I widened it. Tunneled. Over time."

"Wish I'd thought of that," Aerrow muttered.

"Dude," Finn gasped. "I didn't know you were that smart!"

Twister's eyes flashed in the darkness at the comment. But then he smirked sinisterly. "Guess I don't have to feel bad about my little brother ratting you out, then," he said.

Aerrow's face hardened in realization. The two boys who followed Grimsley around—Twister and Kite—were brothers.

Twister turned to Aerrow. "I heard your escape. Those doors aren't quiet."

Not knowing what else to say, Aerrow could only agree. "No. They're not."

For a moment, the boys stood in uncomfortable silence.

Finally, curiosity got the better of Aerrow. "If you have a tunnel out, how come you've never escaped?"

"I can get out of my cell," he said. "I'm not stupid enough to try to escape the prison." He gave them a lopsided grin. "Besides, I can't leave my buddies, and I can't get them out."

"You call Grimsley a buddy?" Finn asked. "Dude, I don't think I'd call a bully who calls my brother stupid a 'buddy.'"

"Why are you with him?" Aerrow asked. "Why do you follow him all day and keep quiet?"

Twister just looked at them a moment, as if deciding if he could trust them. At last, he said, "Grimsley is smart about some things. He knows how to get out without getting killed. Besides, I know the kind of guy to hang with. Better to be with him than against him. And as long as he thinks I'm dumb, he won't expect much of me."

Aerrow stepped toward him. "You don't have to be with him _or_ against him," he said. "We're getting out. Tonight. You could come with us."

Finn turned to Aerrow. "Dude!" he whispered in Aerrow's ear. "Are you crazy? I don't want _him_—"

But Aerrow stamped on his foot before he could say more. They were all boys stuck in a horrible situation. He was willing to forgive for the past if they would help each other escape. Besides, what else could they do? If they let Twister go, he could give them away.

"I've got my brother to think about," Twister reminded him. He looked skeptical. "I doubt you'll get far," he said. "How're you doing it?"

"Through the abandoned tunnel," Aerrow explained.

"The Fire Pit." Twister said the words quietly, weighing each one. "You're insane."

"That's what I said!" Finn piped up.

"But your going," Twister pointed out.

"I'm not staying here."

Twister just stood quietly, but now he was looking at them from under his heavy lids as if he were superior. "There's another way out, you know."

Aerrow knew exactly what he meant. "We're not Cyclonians," he hissed. "And we never will be. This is the only way."

Twister looked away. "Then you'll die," he said. "Either way you look at it, you'll die. Even if you make it, Cyclonia will win the war."

"How do _you_ know?" Aerrow asked, his temper rising at the very suggestion.

"Cyclonia's strong," Twister said. "It's the only way to go."

"Grimsley's filled your head with lies!"

Twister remained calm. "Grimsley," he said slowly, "has nothing to do with it."

Aerrow glared at him. Even when he thought he was dumb, Aerrow would never have taken Twister to be the kind to choose Cyclonia by himself.

"Well, we're going," Aerrow said. "You can stay here and rot or go out and be a servant of Hell, for all I care!" He turned and stomped away, Radarr still hanging over his back.

Finn spared Twister a bewildered glance before following after. "We can't just leave him here!" he gasped. "He'll tell on us!"

Aerrow stopped and looked back, glaring. Finn was right.

Twister just smirked after them. "Tell you what," he said. "I'll give you guys a fair shot. I won't say a word. See how your little escape goes. If they bring you back and beat you, don't blame me."

"You've got your loyalties seriously mixed up," Aerrow snarled.

Twister just looked on calmly. "Not all of us fit into nice, little categories, Aerrow. You may see the world that way, but there's more than that."

"Maybe I don't see more."

"Maybe that's 'cause you're not looking."

Aerrow had enough of this mind game. He put his hand on his hips. "You swear you won't tell?"

"Why would I? I'd give myself away."

Aerrow nodded. Twister certainly wasn't as dumb as he'd thought. "I hope you know what you're doing," he told him.

Twister met his eyes. "Likewise."

As Aerrow, with Radarr still hanging off him, and Finn turned to leave, Twister called after them. "And one more thing." Aerrow looked back at him over his shoulder to see him smirking. "That's my hairstyle," he said, referring to the crazy mope on both of their heads.

Aerrow smirked back. "I had it first."

And with that, he, Radarr, and Finn left Twister standing in the darkness.

Finn trembled once they were out of earshot. "That guy gives me the creeps," he said. "I liked him better when he acted stupid."

But Aerrow wasn't listening to him. "I can't believe he picked Cyclonia," he grumbled.

"Let it go," Finn answered. "We'll probably never see him again."

"Hopefully," Aerrow agreed.

As they headed toward the exit of the main prison, they grew quiet. They had talked about this. Two guards stood in front of the doors, in the unlikely case that prisoners like themselves would try to sneak into the tunnels. Aerrow was to split off from Radarr and Finn so they could each take on a guard (Aerrow and Radarr had agreed that Finn may need more help than Aerrow).

Everything seemed to go as planned. The place was nearly pitch-black for the prisoners' need for sleep. Aerrow, Radarr, and Finn snuck up in the shadows, each getting behind their respective guards. At the same time, they leaped at them.

Aerrow jumped up and wrapped his legs around the guards waist, covering his mouth with his hand and then give him a heavy fist right on the head. He had a little trouble untangling himself as the now-unconscious Talon fell over backward, and he made an unorthodox landing on the floor next to him.

Finn failed at this technique, however, and the only thing that kept the guard from turning on him and raising the alarm was Radarr leaping up onto his head and covering his mouth with his paw. As the Talon danced, trying to get Radarr off, Finn reached for a volcanic rock by the doorway and slugged it at the Talons head before Aerrow could even scramble to his feet. Aerrow stared, worried Finn would hit Radarr. Surprisingly, it didn't even brush the animal's fur but hit the Talon square on the forehead. Radarr leapt clear and landed gracefully as the Talon fell on the floor, out cold.

Aerrow looked down at the guard with a raised eyebrow, surprised by Finn's skill. "Next time I'll just give you rock," he said.

Finn smirked. "Yeah, 'cause the Finnster is awesome!" But then he frowned. "I'd have done better with a slingshot, though," he added.

They opened the doors as quietly as possible, again using the nametag. Luckily just about anyone in earshot was unconscious on the floor.

Once into the soot-covered tunnel system, they headed at once for Tunnel 13. "I really don't like that number," Finn kept muttering. "It's a bad omen."

"Do you even know what that means?" Aerrow asked in amusement.

"Yes!" Finn answered. Then he thought about. "Maybe."

Aerrow rolled his eyes.

"Hey!" Finn defended himself. "I know it's bad!"

At last, they reached the abandoned tunnel where the Fire Pit was. Finn looked down into it, looking nervous and jittery. "Perhaps we should wait till it goes off," he suggested. They both knew that there was always a minimum of ten minutes before it would spout again after one eruption.

But Aerrow shook his head. "That could be awhile, and someone'll find the guards soon and raise the alarm. Besides, then the floor'll be covered with lava."

"How do we know it's not covered with lava now?"

"It's not glowing."

"Oh." Finn blinked. "Right."

So, with Finn trembled and following behind and Radarr brushing against his legs and shivering, Aerrow led the way into the tunnel.

It was smaller than the rest, proudly because it wasn't dug out very well and because each eruption adds a new layer to the floor. But because of their age, Finn and Aerrow weren't that tall, and they didn't have to duck all that often. The only sound in the cave was their footsteps on the dried lava and Finn muttering, "We're dead. We're _so_ dead. We're gonna die. We're dead," the entire time.

At some point, the floor began to dip downward. And then Aerrow froze just as he almost lost his footing at the edge of a cone-shaped rim. At the center of the dipping rim was a deep, deep hole. Smoke and steam rose from it, creating such a temperature in the tunnel that both boys were sweating all over, and Radarr was in lather. Deep within, the ground hissed.

Aerrow coughed on the poisonous gas. "That must be the Fire Pit," he said.

"Yeah," Finn grumbled. "Ya _think?_"

As carefully as possibly, Aerrow scaled the rim, doing his best not to slip and fall inside. There wasn't much space between the sides of the hole and the wall.

As they passed it, Finn went from muttering to whimpering, and Radarr felt glued to Aerrow's legs. Aerrow tried to calm his breathing, not only because he was scared, but also because the sulfur was making it hard to breathe properly.

Everything seemed fine. For awhile, they descended into the darkness, and the Fire Pit seemed like a distant memory. Aerrow's spirits rose. Perhaps they wouldn't have any problems.

Then at last they saw it, the light glow in the distance from the light of lava. "That's from the Wastelands!" Aerrow gasped. "We're almost out!"

"'Bout time," Finn muttered. He'd given up whimpering awhile ago.

Then they heard it, the slight hiss that signaled an eruption. The three friends whirled around. "Not good," Finn gasped.

Aerrow heard the gurgling grow louder. The Fire Pit. It was going to blow! "Run!" Aerrow cried.

The trio started off as fast as they could. Finn nearly lost his footing and stumbled to keep up. Radarr ran on all fours at Aerrow's side, skimming along the ground with each long stride. But Aerrow knew that if they didn't make it in time, not even Radarr could outrun the lava.

The three burst through opening just as the eruption went off, deafening them with a roar, shaking the entire tunnel. Finn, just leaving the exit, lost his footing in the shakings and fell right on top of the other two. "Get up, get up!" Aerrow yelled, trying to struggle to his feet with Finn still on top of him. He knocked Finn off and got up with Radarr and Finn scrambling after him.

They ran clear of the exit just as the lava began to spill down and pool below it. The roar of the eruption could still be heard, but it was quieter now, as if it was starting to taper off.

Aerrow didn't stop running until he was fifty yards away, at last leaning on a rock and breathing heavily, desperately trying to catch his breath in this sulfur-filled air. Radarr collapsed at his feet in exhaustion. Finn, late as usual, had just staggered up on him. "If we . . . survive . . . this," he said between gasps, "I'm . . . going . . . to kill . . . you."

Aerrow, finally catching his breath enough to speak, just smirked at him. "Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?" Aerrow asked.

Finn just glared at him.

Aerrow tried to reassure him. "We made it past the Fire Pit," he pointed out. "And we're still alive. Not even a burn. After that, there's nothing we can't do."

"Ever heard of impossible?"

"Don't believe in it."

* * *

Author's Notes: I was just going to call this chapter "Escape", but come on! Like that's never been used before. Besides, I try not to use the names of episodes for my chapters. And I do like the title I finally settled on.

Okay, y'all know the drill. Leave a review, tell me how great this is, how horrible this is, what I did wrong, you know, all that good stuff.


	11. Chapter 10: Price of Freedom

Chapter 10: Price of Freedom

_Freedom is never free._

~Anonymous

You wouldn't think of the Wastelands as _bright_. It would seem it must be a dark, dark place, blocked from the sun with clouds of sulfur. But it was bright. It was almost blinding! Hot lava was a lot brighter than one might think if they'd never seen it before. Aerrow's eyes would start to water if he stared at it too long.

The heat of the lava, bubbling up from the very heart of the world, made the air so warm that it simmered no matter where they were, even if they were in a rocky clearing. Soon Aerrow and Finn were taking their shirts off, trying to cool off. Finn let his drop to the ground and left it there.

But the worst part of it was the air. Full of poisonous gases, it made them cough every now and then, and as hours went by, it seemed like their lungs were starving for fresh air. Their eyes and noses stung. Finn said they should put their shirts over their mouths and noses, but Aerrow reminded him that only worked when they were wet with water. Which they had none.

So for hours they wandered aimlessly, Aerrow in the lead. "Do you have any idea where you're going?" Finn asked.

"Uh . . ." Aerrow glanced back at him, wanting to give him an honest answer but not sure how Finn would react to one.

"You don't, do you? You led us out here without the slightest idea of where we should go?"

Aerrow smiled sheepishly. "We did everything else unplanned," he said.

"Yeah," Finn agreed. "We had unplanned _details_. What about the rest of the main plan? What do expect us to do, climb up a terra?"

Aerrow shrugged. "If you want to go back, be my guest." He kept walking, and Radarr followed.

"Hey," Finn called after him, suddenly afraid of being alone. "Hey, wait up!"

Aerrow _was_ wandering aimlessly and probably had a good chance of getting them lost and dying of thirst. But he did have a search in mind. He was looking for water. Problem was, he had no idea where to look. Maybe a terra? Surely they wouldn't find water here, but it could be flowing off hospitable ground. "Look for a terra," he told Finn.

Finn rolled his eyes. "I wasn't serious about climbing out."

"I know," Aerrow said. "I'm not saying we should climb. I just want you to yell if you see a terra."

"But how would that . . . ?"

"Finn!"

"Okay, okay! Chill, dude. The Finnster's got it."

As they kept walking, though, Aerrow knew Finn had other things on his mind than a terra. "I'm hungry," he told Aerrow. "What are we going to eat?"

"Whatever we can find," Aerrow answered glumly.

"I'm really, _really_ thirsty!" Finn continued to complain.

Aerrow swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat. They all were thirsty. The sooner they found water, the better.

A few minutes later . . . "My feet hurt!"

Finn again.

Then . . . "I'm tired."

"Keep moving, Finn."

A little later . . . "Are we there yet?"

"Do you see a terra?"

"No."

"Then no, we're not."

Finn groaned. "I'm hungry."

Aerrow rolled his eyes.

They found a terra. They circled it. They studied it. No water.

They found a little mini-terra. It looked like it might even be rocky and bare on top. No water.

"I'm thirsty."

"I know, Finn!"

Still a long while later, Radarr sniffed the air and churred excitedly. He pulled on Aerrow's pant leg and pointed frantically at the base of another terra before scurrying toward it. "Radarr, wait for us!" Aerrow called after him, afraid of being separated as he scrambled after the creature. Finn stumbled along behind them.

When at last Aerrow caught Radarr, the little guy had stopped at the mouth of a cave in the terra's cliff side. There, pouring out of the wall, was an underwater stream of fresh water.

Delighted at the sight, the two boys stumbled in and drank greedily. After a few swallows, though, Finn began to spit it out. "It tastes bad!" he spat, wiping his tongue.

Radarr's nose was curled up at it. He had also tasted it and found it vulgar.

Aerrow nodded in agreement. "Sulfur," he said.

"This whole place is sulfur!" Finn complained.

Aerrow looked again at the water. Bad as it tasted, he was so thirsty. "Well, beggars can't be choosers," he said with a shrug. He again started to drink, with Radarr waiting behind him.

Finn just frowned and crossed his arms as if to pout. "I hate being a beggar," he muttered.

* * *

When Aerrow awoke, he couldn't tell how long he slept, how long they'd been there. He sniffed the air to make sure the whole escape hadn't been a dream. The air made him cough.

He raised his head to look around. Aerrow had used his clothes as a pillow and had given some to Finn to use as well. The bag he had carried them in was soiled and lying just out of reach. Finn lay next to him in arm's reach, and Radarr was curled next to him, not wanting to touch him because of the heat.

Slowly, trying not to wake the others, Aerrow eased himself up and tried to catch his bearings. His stomach was aching, and he wished he'd thought of some way to feed them all. It had seemed like such an easy situation when he had planned the escape. He thought the worst was over once they got out. But he could see now that this would be the difficult part of the journey. They had to find some way out of the Wastelands toward some sort of hospitable place, maybe even civilization. The likelihood of that happening seemed slim. And without that happening, there was no way they could survive. They couldn't even breathe here!

He looked over at the trickling stream behind him. He didn't want to have to leave this place, where he knew there was water, but he certainly didn't want to stay here. If the others didn't get up soon, he'd wake them himself, and then they'd have to be off.

But where? Was there anywhere to go? Perhaps they really _should_ try to climb this terra. At least they knew it had water.

But as he looked up at the terra's jagged cliff face, he knew it would be impossible for them to climb all the way to the top. Besides, although he knew he and Radarr could get a little way, he wasn't sure Finn could get up at all.

He sat down with his back against the terra, trying to clear his head, trying to think. It was hard when he couldn't even breathe fresh air.

Maybe this was crazy. Maybe he had doomed them to die. Maybe there was no way out this.

He shook his head to clear it. Those thoughts would get him nowhere. Whether or not they should have come, they were here now, and that's all that mattered. Now, instead of dwelling on the past, he needed to make a decision about what to do next.

He heard a yawn and padding feet and looked toward the cave entrance. Radarr was crawling out, looking only half awake. When he saw Aerrow, his ears tilted toward him, and he churred in greeting.

Aerrow blinked in surprise. "Radarr," he said, "you're wearing your old clothes!"

Radarr nodded happily and stood up on two legs, showing him his outfit. He had taken off the prison uniform and was wearing the one he used to wear before they were captured.

Aerrow looked down at his own grungy, red-and-brown-striped prison uniform. "Do you think one of those leather uniforms would fit me now?" he asked Radarr.

Radarr looked him over, studying him, before squawking and giving him thumbs up.

Aerrow was immediately up and back in the cave. He looked around at the uniforms in front of him. All had blue in them, but they also had second colors, and for each one they were different. The one with green was way too big. Finn was using that for a pillow, anyway. The one with orange was a girl's outfit.

That left only the one with red and the one with brown. But which one?

Aerrow picked them both up, studying each. The blue-and-brown suit looked dull. Besides, red would match his hair and it was his favorite color, besides blue, of course.

Quickly taking off his clothes and hoping Finn wouldn't wake up, Aerrow pulled on his knew leather uniform. It was a little loose on him, but that meant he had growing room. Otherwise, it was great. At first he felt kind of hot, but then he realized that he didn't feel slammed with heat now that he had it on. Even though it was thicker and warmer, it actually acted like a barrier to the heat. It would probably keep him cooler in the long run. And should they ever come into cold weather, it would insulate him. A great traveling outfit!

The uniform also came with gloves. Carefully he slipped them over his calloused hands. The fingers were a bit too long, but they fit well enough that he'd manage.

He went outside with Radarr as soon as he was done. "How do I look?"

Radarr squawked happily and gave him more thumbs up.

Aerrow smiled. "Not bad, huh?"

"Would you two be quiet? I can't sleep!"

Aerrow looked over his shoulder into the cave. "Finn!" he called. "I was just about to wake you up!"

Finn groaned and sat up. Then his eyes widened. "Hey, what the heck are you two wearing?"

"We put on some of the outfits!" Aerrow said happily. He'd already told Finn about the clothes he'd brought from home long before they had escaped. "You want to try one on? The one with brown might work for you."

Finn sat up and looked him over. Aerrow could tell he was grumpy . . . probably because he was tired and hungry. "It looks hot," he said. "I'll roast."

"Actually, they keep you cooler," Aerrow said. "Come on, just try it on." He threw him the outfit.

Finn caught it in one hand and then frowned at Aerrow. "Well, don't just stand there! Give me privacy!"

Aerrow rolled his eyes and walked away. It wasn't like he was going to watch Finn change, anyway.

Finn came out a few minutes later, wearing gloves and all, although his gloves had open fingers. "It's kind of big on me," he said.

"Mine, too," Aerrow answered. "But that means that they'll fit perfectly when we're older."

"When we're older, we better not be living like this."

"We won't," Aerrow promised. Although he was a lot less certain than he sounded.

* * *

The escapees weren't the only ones waking up. The prison was waking up, too, and hours earlier, they had received a report that the replacement guards had found the other two guards unconscious at the end of their shift in the middle of the night. Already Buteo and his men were in thorough investigation.

Buteo was just sorting through papers on his desk when a Talon stepped in, bringing with him three prison boys. "These boys would like to speak with you," the Talon said. "One says he knows how the runaways escaped."

"Does he now?" Buteo answered, setting his papers down. "Then why doesn't he come alone?"

"They came as a group, sir," was the Talon's only explanation.

"Very well," Buteo asked, too tired to bother drilling in on that tiny point. "What can any of you tell me about the runaways?"

An orange-haired boy with a fat, ugly face stepped forward. "I know the one who led them," Grimsley said, smirking. "Aerrow, 1309, the one with the critter. He, his critter, and his friend must have headed through the tunnel of the Fire Pit."

Buteo smirked at the idea. "If they had gone there, we would have found them already. Probably dead, if they dared get far beyond our search area." He raised his head a little. "What makes you think they used the Fire Pit?"

"Aerrow talked about it," Grimsley answered. "He's crazy like that."

"Is that all you know?" Buteo asked, now starting to look intrigued.

Grimsley turned to Kite and Twister. "You two know anything else?"

Twister's face tightened as he tried to think. What should he say, if he should say anything?

Grimsley might have noticed Twister's reaction. Or maybe he just knew Twister. Either way, he turned to him and said, "Twister, you normally hear everything. Know anything about last night?"

Twister thought a moment. He wasn't dumb enough to give himself away, but he could say that he heard Aerrow opening his and Finn's doors automatically. It would even be the truth. But should he?

As he looked at Grimsley, who was waiting expectantly with his arms crossed, and at the powerful, mighty Talons around him who he wanted to be, Aerrow's words rang in his head: _You've got your loyalties seriously mixed up._

Twister clenched his fists. He _knew_ where his loyalties lay, and he _knew_ who he was. He would not go down. He would go by way of the winning path.

He looked Grimsley right in the eye. "I heard doors opening," he admitted, "as if by a key . . . or nametag."

Grimsley turned to Buteo triumphantly.

Buteo was more than interested by now. He looked over at one of his Talons. "Was not 1309 the very prisoner who stole a nametag from one of our men?"

"I believe so, sir," the Talon answered.

The lead Talon nodded and got to his feet, putting his hands behind his back. "Good. Assemble a search party. I want them to check below the abandoned tunnel to see if there's any sign of the runaways. If not, they are to keep looking."

The Talon's eyes widened. "But sir," he argued, "send men into the Wastelands?"

"Is that not what I said?" Buteo growled.

The Talon nodded quickly.

"It can't be that hard to hunt down two kids and their pet," Buteo muttered. "And when you assemble this search party, remind every soldier what happens when he dares to desert."

The Talon gulped and nodded again.

"And don't worry," Buteo assured him, reaching for a radio mike as he spoke. "I'll get the very man who caught the boy the first time to come lead the party."

"Sir," Grimsley said hesitantly, "what about us?"

"What about you?" Buteo asked impatiently.

"Sir," Grimsley said, now sounding overly respectful, "we . . . we have been thinking about perhaps forming a youth brigade. With your permission, of course, wonderful sir."

Buteo hated kiss-ups, but the boy and his friends did help him get a lead on the runaways, and they certainly seemed as devoted to Cyclonia as prisoners could be. He nodded to his lower Talon. "See to it also," he said, "that we suggest another youth brigade."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Author's Notes: Twister's role is growing. I hadn't meant for that to happen, but oh well. I sort of like him. He's a much more conflicted kid-villain than Grimsley.

Up next, I'm going to bring in another future-Storm Hawk! I'll leave you guys to wonder which one . . .


	12. Chapter 11: The Stranger

Chapter 11: The Stranger

_You meet people who forget you. You forget people you meet. But sometimes you meet those people you can't forget. Those are your "friends."_

~Anonymous

Aerrow had basically picked a path and followed it. It didn't lead to anywhere in particular, just away from the lava rivers and lakes, where they had already seen magma beasts jumping and peering out of the water with fiery eyes. The trio stayed away for fear of becoming lunch.

For hours they walked. Aerrow's stomach was in anguish, and Finn sure wasn't being quiet about his hunger, either. Radarr didn't say anything, but he was walking on all fours now, something he was inclined to when his stomach was hurting. But Aerrow couldn't think of any way of getting food, and every step led them further away from the only known source of water. The farther they went along, the more apprehensive he felt, which only made him pick up the pace. Finn and Radarr wearily, and eventually grudgingly, followed along.

Then they heard the roar.

Aerrow looked up in time to see a huge, winged shadow descending toward them rapidly. Slanted red eyes glared out of the darkness as the black, winged mass got closer. It suddenly swooped in through a black cloud of sulfuric gas, scattering the smoke so it looked almost as if it had risen from the volcano itself.

The bat was huge! Its leathery wings spanned as wide, if not wider, than a skyride's wingspan. The body was so large that Aerrow, Finn, and Radarr could all have taken a ride on its back together. Its massive head had an elongated snout with a jutting, pointed chin and looked capable of engulfing a human's entire head. Large, pointed ears as long as a person's forearm flicked forward toward the group of runaways before lying back again on its head. With another roar, it dove for them.

Aerrow knew then that this animal's interest in them could mean only one thing: it was a meat-eater. "Run!" Aerrow shouted.

Finn didn't need to be told twice. He probably didn't even need to be told the first time, for he was already scrambling toward a pile of rocks to take cover. Aerrow and Radarr followed him and then ran past him, beating him to safety.

Enormous talons reached toward its prey as the bat came closer. The roar erupted from its mouth again.

Aerrow ducked for cover. Radarr leaped onto his back and hugged his neck so hard that Aerrow had to loosen his grip to breathe. They both made it to cover. But as Aerrow looked out of the rocks, his heart skipped a beat. "Finn!"

Finn hadn't made it. He'd tripped on the way to the rocks, and down the bat dove for him. Quickly Finn attempted to escape, rolling to the side just before the talon came down, then rolling the other way as the other talon grasped for him. He was screaming with each roll.

Aerrow clung to the rock so hard that his fingers stung. He hated being there, watching without being able to help. But what could he do?

Finn scrambled to his feet at last and was just about to make a dash for it when the bat snagged him. It was only the loose clothing that kept Finn from being scratched. The claws instead hooked on the loose leather instead of Finn's back.

But the result was the same as far as Finn's escape. "Someone _help!_" Finn cried as the bat started to pull him back.

Aerrow had nothing, no weapon, no tool, not even a loose pebble to throw. But all the same, he wasn't about to sit there and do nothing. Before he could think about it, he tore Radarr's paws off him, scrambled over the rocks and leapt down in front of Finn and the bat, leaving Radarr in safety. Radarr screeched at him in terror, but Aerrow was already heading for the bat.

The bat was beating its wings furiously, trying to keep its hold on Finn and take off at the same time. Before it could negotiate this, Aerrow was there.

Aerrow ran to Finn, trying to unhook his clothing from the bat's grasping claws. Before he could get it undone, the bat reached out with its other talon.

WHACK!

Aerrow's head swam. He staggered, trying to keep his footing. It seemed to him that someone call his name. It must be Finn. Finn was the only other one there who could speak. The roars of the bat blurred into the din of the ringing his ears.

His vision cleared before his hearing did. Somehow he'd ended up on the ground. Up above him, Finn was still struggling against the bat, and the bat was reached out to grasp Finn with its other talon.

Somehow Aerrow scrambled to his feet, and before the bat could do anything, he'd grabbed the talon hooked to Finn. It was then his hearing returned, and he heard Finn shouting.

Aerrow didn't really comprehend what Finn was saying. All he knew was that he needed to free his friend and get to safety. He started to try to undo Finn's shirt from the bat's claw.

Angrily the bat threw back its head and struck at Aerrow again with its talon, but this time, something furry appeared and clung on to it, stopping its blow. Radarr had come to help, and he had bitten the bat's foot.

The bat swung its other talon, and Finn lost his footing, slamming down on the ground on his stomach. Thankfully, however, when he fell, Aerrow was able to unhook him. "Head for the rocks!" he shouted to Finn.

Finn scrambled up and staggered in that direction, but the bat was determined to take him. With a final shake, Radarr went flying from the bat's talons and into a boulder, where he lay still. Then with a mighty surge, the bat began to force itself upward to fly on and attack Finn again.

But Aerrow acted first. Looking back, he would never know what possessed him, but for whatever reason, he grabbed the bat's wing. As if he couldn't already tell that the bat could swing him around like a rag doll.

It served the purpose, though. The bat was forced down to the ground, unable to fly. But it could still move its wing enough to sling Aerrow like a toy on the end of a string. And when Aerrow clung on for dear life and refused to let go, the bat began to snap at him.

The jaws must have clipped his arm. Or maybe he whacked his arm against something in all the movement. Whatever the reason, pain shot through Aerrow's arm like bolts, and he lost his grip. The next thing he knew, he was flying through the air and landed on his back.

His head was swimming again, and this time, he couldn't seem to right everything. All he could do was lie there and try to catch his breath . . . until he felt something like a large hand grip him and force him down. Gasping for breath, he looked up to see that the bat had pinned him with its talon. Roaring angrily, it gave a thrust with its leg, crushing into the boy. Aerrow gasped and tried to wiggle free in vain.

Off to the side, Finn was shouting at the bat. He picked up a stone and threw it, striking the bat right in the eye.

The bat swung its head around and growled at him angrily. But instead of letting go of Aerrow and going after Finn, the bat turned back to its capture prey. It reeled back its head like a cobra getting ready to strike. It was going to deliver the final blow.

This is how it ends, Aerrow thought. Surviving countless struggles against murderers, pillagers, war, and even a prison mine, successfully escaping the mine and surviving in the Wastelands for almost twelve hours . . . only to be eaten by a giant bat.

But then the bat was struck again, not by a stone . . . but by a yellow crystal.

On impact, the crystal exploded in a flash of light so bright that Aerrow was momentarily blinded. The bat let out squeal of pain, and then Aerrow felt the pressure of its foot leave him. When he opened his eyes again, the bat was flying off high above him, roaring in annoyance.

He was curious to know where the crystal came from, but he didn't feel like he had the strength left to lift a finger. For a moment, he just lay there, trying to catch his breath after almost being crushed to death. The poisonous air was making it even harder to replenish his lungs.

"Aerrow!" Rocks skidded off to the side him, and then Finn's worried face was in view. "You okay? Come on, dude, talk to me!"

Aerrow had to draw in some breathes before he had the ability to say anything. He closed his eyes, concentrating on inhaling. "I'm okay," he gasped at last.

"You're bleeding!" Finn protested.

Aerrow didn't feel hurt. Then again, he didn't feel much of anything. He sat up and instantly regretted it. It brought on dizziness, nausea, and a pounding headache. Groaning, he put a hand to his head.

That's when he figured out what Finn was talking about. His hair was hot and sticky with something. He pulled his hand away, and his glove was stained with a dark patch of liquid. The smell copper stung his nose.

Finn steadied him, but once Aerrow seemed to catch his bearings, Finn went off. "Aw, that was _awesome_, dude! You, like, leapt from the rocks like you weren't afraid of anything! Weren'cha scared?"

Aerrow put his hand to his head again as his headache only got worse. Luckily the dizziness was going away. His thoughts were going in circles but stayed on one key point of the fight. "Who threw that crystal?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, while that . . . monster thingy had you, this girl showed up outta nowhere!"

Aerrow raised his head and looked around. Girl?

She stood off to the side, her dark skin making her blend in with the shadows of the rocks. Her clothes were old and soiled, and she wore boots. Her midnight blue hair was pulled up behind her and taken out of her eyes by an orange headband. A little blue crystal hung from a necklace round her neck. She had a backpack—Atmos only knows what was inside it—that she had half-slung over one should. And it was open. Probably the crystal had come from there. The girl's orange eyes met his across the space and then looked away quickly. She had a heavy, disapproving frown on her face, and her arms were crossed as if in irritation. She didn't look to be much older than they were.

Aerrow was shocked. It wasn't everyday that you met someone wandering around in the Wastelands, especially not a young girl. He had to talk to her and at least thank her for saving his life. His curiosity yearned to know why she was there. Aerrow started to get to his feet, Finn helping him up.

But Radarr beat him to it. The little guy had already crept toward the girl on all fours. A couple feet away, he stopped and sniffed at her shoes suspiciously.

The girl just looked down at him. She didn't say anything, just moved her foot farther away.

Seeing that, Radarr looked up at her sheepishly and stood up on his hind legs, meeting her eyes.

She looked away again quickly.

Aerrow pressed a hand to his head as he headed toward her, trying to tame his headache. It wasn't helping, but perhaps it was helping the bleeding. "Hey, wait up!" Finn called after him. "Sit down, dude. You're hurt!"

When Aerrow was finally standing in front of the girl, she met him with a glare. "Hope you don't let that bump get the better of you," she said. "That was my last striker crystal. Don't let it go to waste." She was all attitude as she said it and had a look of pure contempt. She seemed to have immediately decided he was below her.

Aerrow liked her instantly.

"Thanks," he said. "For saving me."

"Don't mention it," she said as she flung her backpack onto her back again. Then she met his eyes. "Really. Don't."

"I'm Aerrow."

"I know. I only heard your friend yell it a dozen times in the last few minutes."

She was witty, too, apparently.

Aerrow waited for her to give her name, but she didn't offer it. "The friend you heard is Finn," he explained. He pointed down to his constant companion at her feet. "He's Radarr."

Radarr chirped in greeting.

She still didn't say anything.

"Got a name?" Aerrow asked at last.

"None of your business," the girl answered.

"Nice to meet you, Noneofyourbusiness," Finn exclaimed, appearing beside Aerrow and stretching out his hand to shake. He had the smile he always had when he was playing around.

Aerrow grinned, holding back laughter, but the girl sniffed indignantly.

"Ignore him," Aerrow said quickly, trying to mend the situation. Finn glared at Aerrow for that.

The girl just looked straight at Aerrow as if she was coming to a decision. Then she said, "That was dumb."

Aerrow raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"What you did earlier. You could have been killed jumping out like that at one of those bats."

"What was I supposed to do?"

"Come around behind it," she explained. "Distract it. Don't just get right under its claws. That's why you got hurt."

"Didn't think about that at the time," Aerrow answered. Now that she was pointing it out to him, he felt rather foolish.

"That was dumb. It nearly got you killed." She studied them. "You're not Cyclonian," she concluded. "So, I'm guessing you're here for the same reason I am."

"And what reason is that?" Aerrow asked.

She crossed her arms, as if the thought of it made her angry. "My home was attacked by Cyclonians. I escaped on a skyride. Ran out of fuel and ended up here."

"Actually . . ." Finn began, but Aerrow elbowed him in the ribs and interrupted.

"Yes," Aerrow said. "That's pretty much our story, too. Although Radarr and I did some terra hopping first before we met Finn." _Not a total lie,_ he thought.

"You sure came ill-prepared," the girl pointed out.

"What'd you mean?"

"No supplies. Not even a canteen of water. How'd you expect to get by here? Don't you at least have something to eat and drink?"

"No," Finn answered flatly before Aerrow could stop him. He pointed to Aerrow. "This was all his idea, anyway."

"I did what I could!" Aerrow protested.

"And now we're stuck here," Finn pointed out.

The two boys' eyes met. This was a conflict that had been brewing since their escape. Aerrow was tired of Finn's complaining and blaming his troubles on him, and Finn was tired of the suffering that he saw as Aerrow's fault.

Radarr just crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at the quarreling boys.

The girl rolled her eyes, too. "You guys aren't that smart, are you?"

Her words made Aerrow feel even more foolish, but Finn just looked irritated with her.

The girl shrugged. "Come on, then," she said. She turned to leave.

Aerrow blinked. "What?"

"You need to have something," she said. "Besides, I'm not going to let you out of my sight till I get you bandaged up."

Aerrow and Finn exchanged glances. Finn shook his head vigorously, but Aerrow glared and nodded. He thought following the girl would be a good idea.

Ever since they'd met, Finn had let Aerrow call the shots. So, even though he disagreed, Finn seemed resigned to come along. But he didn't look happy about it.

She turned her back and started walking only to stop after a few steps. Looking back at them, she said, "Piper."

"What?" Aerrow asked, confused.

"You asked for my name. It's Piper."

Aerrow smiled at her. "Nice to meet you, Piper," he answered softly.

For the first time, Piper smiled.

But as Piper starting marching away as if she expected them to follow, Finn grabbed Aerrow's arm to stop him from following immediately. "Dude, are you sure we can trust her?"

Aerrow nodded. "I think she's okay. She just needs to trust _us_."

"I don't like it."

"She has supplies," Aerrow argued. "And she's all alone."

"So, wait . . . Do you want to _use_ her, or do you feel sorry for her?"

"I just think we can help each other out."

"If you trust her," Finn said, "why didn't you tell her about the prison mine?"

Radarr, who was at Aerrow's feet, pricked his ears at that question, as if he wanted to know, too.

"Why would I?" Aerrow asked. "If she knew about that, she'd leave right away. She'd want nothing to do with us! She'd be afraid that someone was chasing us or something crazy like that."

"Are they?"

Aerrow laughed. "Are you crazy? No _Talon_ would ever come to the Wastelands just to look for three little prisoners."

* * *

Lance looked around after touching down in the Wastelands. He hated the brightness and the smell immediately, but he had to come here. Sparrow and Radarr were out there somewhere, and they were with another boy. And Buteo had asked for his help in finding them.

He looked back at the group of Talons quivering behind him. Their Switchblades were packed to the max with supplies for their dangerous journey, from extra loads of water to doctor-warranted medical supplies. Even so, all five of them couldn't stand the idea of being in the Wastelands.

Gos was the only one not afraid. Buteo had wanted Lance to bring "his companion" with him for the journey. Gos had grumbled the whole time about how they should have "killed the kid while they could" and how he was "more trouble than he's worth." Now that he was met with the most dangerous task of his life, Gos was once again showing his unease in grumpiness rather than fear. He complained about the air, light, and smell; said numerous times that he wanted to go home; and insisted that they leave the kids out there to die. There was no way they could be fending for themselves, he claimed.

Lance couldn't understand it. No matter where he went, Sparrow always seemed to cause lots of trouble and was often considered somewhat valuable. It didn't make sense.

He turned to one of the prison Talons, who made up the four fearful Talons. "Why is the warden going through all this trouble for just two kids and their pet?" he asked.

Talon looked up at him. All of them knew who Lance was, and for this reason, many of them blamed him for their condition. "Ever since you brought that kid in, Lieutenant" one said, "he's been nothing but trouble. Fights, theft, you name it. Hard worker, though." He looked down at his feet again. "Buteo wants to make an example out of him."

"An example out of a kid?" Lance repeated. He didn't like the sound of that.

Another Talon nodded. "Most effective," he said. "When other prisoners see that we're not afraid to hunt down and beat even a young 'un, they won't want to step out of place for fear of worse things."

Lance understood that. But he didn't like it.

"Where to now, Lieutenant?" one of the Talons asked, waiting for him to give the orders.

Lance looked back at the exit of the abandoned tunnel, trying to judge if the boys even made it out.

Gos followed his gaze. "How do we know they didn't get fried in there?" he asked the other Talons.

"'Cause we found this," one Talon said, holding up a shirt. It was a prison shirt, lined with red and brown. It was small in size, like it was meant for a young boy. "At least one of 'em's out here somewhere," the Talon concluded. "Dead or alive."

Lance nodded. Much as he hated the idea of what the warden would do to the boys once they were caught, he just had to finish this job and then he could go home. Which meant he wanted to find them quickly and get it over with.

He stepped toward the Talon holding the shirt and touched the grungy clothing. "Where was this found?" he asked.

The Talon led him a short distance away. Lance followed the path of dry ground from that point on with his eyes.

Lance pointed. "Get to your rides, men. They went that way."

* * *

Author's Notes: Ooh, the man-hunt has started. Or boy-hunt. Or boy- and whatever-Radarr-is-hunt.

And now we have Piper in the equation! Yay!


	13. Chapter 12: What Friends are For

Chapter 12: What Friends are For

_A friend is the one who comes in when the whole world has gone out._

~Grace Pulpit

When they finally stopped at a nook in the side of a mountain, probably a small terra, the boys sat around while Piper pulled out supplies and started setting up camp. She pulled out bedrolls, but she stopped just as she was spreading out the second one. "I only have two," she explained, looking concerned.

"That's okay," Aerrow said quickly. "I'm used to sleeping on the ground. And Radarr sleeps on top of me."

"You're not sleeping," Piper told him sternly. "You might have a concussion. We need you awake to tell if they're any complications."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "Complications? Speak Atmosian, will ya?"

Piper glared at him and didn't say anything.

She finished setting out the bedrolls before she spoke again. "It's still nice for you to have somewhere to sit on, though," she said, looking at the bedrolls in concern.

"Really," Aerrow assured her. "It's okay."

Seeming satisfied enough with that answer, Piper pulled out a yellow-orange crystal. "This doesn't have a whole lot of charge left, but it should work." She got out a piece of wire and shaped it to hold the crystal off the ground. Then she pulled out a can of soup and started heating it over the crystal.

Aerrow's stomach growled loudly as soon as he started smelling the food cooking. He looked away, feeling embarrassed.

But Finn didn't hide his hunger. "Oh, boy!" he said. "Thanks! We haven't eaten in days!"

Piper looked up sharply. Aerrow glared at Finn for telling her that.

Once the soup was done, Piper put it all in little dishes. Well, they weren't really "dishes." Some were pot lids, cases, whatever worked. However, all looked relatively clean.

Separated into four even helpings, the can didn't offer a lot. But Piper didn't pull out any more food. Maybe she had to ration. Her backpack wasn't infinite.

All the same, Finn was thankful. He waited impatiently for her to serve them. Aerrow leaned over to him. "Like her now?" he asked.

Finn nodded wordlessly, never taking his eyes off the soup. And once Piper gave the boys their share, Finn and Radarr both sat on a bedroll and started to devour every last morsel.

Piper, however, set hers to the side and started getting something else out of her pack. "Aren't you gonna eat?" Aerrow asked her.

"After I patch you up," she said.

"There's no need . . ."

"You haven't looked at yourself. You're a mess. Although," she added thoughtfully, "head injuries bleed a lot, even when they're not serious."

Aerrow shut his mouth. He was really beginning to wonder just how bad his injury looked. Everyone seemed worried except him.

Piper pulled out a little roll of gauze, a large wad of cotton, a cloth, and a canteen. Aerrow stopped her just before she was about to pour water on the cloth. "Don't use your water," he said. The last thing he wanted was to cause her to waste that precious resource while worrying over him.

She shook her head. "I have to clean the wound," she said. "It could get infected. Water is all I've got."

Aerrow's face tightened. Great. Now he was using up her precious water unnecessarily. He hated the thought, but all he could do was watch her pour and study the wasted droplets as they splashed onto the ground.

Piper gently placed the wet cloth against his head. Her attitude earlier had seemed as prickly as a thorn, but now, treating him for his injury, her touch was soft and gentle. Even so, the cloth's contact stung, and Aerrow squeezed his eyes shut.

When Piper was done, she started to wrap him up. "You know," she said, "that wasn't the smartest move back there."

"I know," Aerrow grumbled. He already felt stupid. Why did she have to remind him?

"It was brave, though," she added.

"Huh?" Aerrow glanced up at her.

Piper shrugged. "I haven't seen many people who'd do that. You know, risk their life for someone else."

"You did."

"No," she argued. "I knew I wasn't in danger. But you . . . you could have been killed. And you _knew_ it. So why?"

Did she really not know? He looked up at her as she finished tying the knot. "He's my friend, Piper," he answered. "That's what friends do."

* * *

Piper had insisted on staying up with Aerrow to monitor him. Aerrow didn't see why she was making such a big deal over a bump on the head, and he felt even worse about having her stay awake. First he was wasting her much-needed water, now he'd managed to make her sleep-deprived. Maybe he shouldn't have joined up with her for her benefit.

Sitting the entire time in awkward silence while Finn and Radarr slept was not Aerrow's idea of a great time. Repeatedly he glanced at Piper, but she offered no input to start a conversation. Instead she stared straight ahead with sleepy, annoyed eyes, not hiding how much of an inconvenience this was for her.

Aerrow still wondered about her. He hadn't figured her out yet. On the one hand, she seemed distant, cold, and untrusting and acted as if she was somehow superior to them. On the other hand, she had refused to leave them without caring for them in every way, despite how much they had cut down on her supplies. He knew just from her actions that she had a good heart, but he couldn't for the life of him understand what was going on in that head.

A brilliant head it was, too. In the brief time he'd known her, she'd spouted off facts as if they were normal for every twelve-year-old to know. It made her even more of a mystery.

What Aerrow didn't know was she was studying him and his ragtag bunch, too. She purposefully avoided glancing at Aerrow, but she studied his strange followers, the squirrelly blond boy and the furry creature whose species she couldn't identify. Something about their story didn't add up, and for that she didn't trust them. Although she never trusted anyone anymore; circumstances had little to do with it.

Aerrow was the first to say something. "You look tired," he said. "Are you sure you don't just want to go to sleep? I'll wake up you up if something feels off."

"If something _is_ off," Piper pointed out, "you might pass out before you realize it."

"That's comforting," Aerrow said sarcastically, smirking at her.

She glanced at him again, and this time she couldn't help her curiosity. "Where'd you get those clothes?"

Aerrow glanced down at his uniform-like leather suit. "Oh, this?" He didn't know quite how to explain it, so he started from the beginning with how were in the skimmer he took from home. He told how he'd given the small outfit to Radarr when he grew into it. Omitting the part about the prison, he just told how he'd held onto them all this time and how, when he and Finn had needed new clothes, they had put on these outfits. "I think it's because they remind me of home that I kept them," he said.

"Where was home for you?" Piper asked.

Suddenly Aerrow was uncomfortable. The one thing he didn't like to discuss was his loss. Even the word "Nimbus" made him feel sick. "Uh, well . . ." He looked away from her, trying to force the words from his mouth.

"Forget it," Piper said. She turned away, and the conversation seemed to end there.

Great. Now he'd alienated her. He just couldn't seem to get it right with her!

Trying to bring her back to talking, he said, "I know it seems kind of silly, holding onto a bag of clothes all this time."

Piper looked at him a moment, as if deciding something. Her eyes seemed to scan him thoroughly until at last she spoke slowly, unsurely. "It's not silly. I think I understand."

"You do?"

She hesitated again, as if reluctant to go on. At last, however, she seemed to decide to say what she meant. She touched the crystal on her necklace. "This crystal was my mother's," she said. "I feel closer to her when I have it."

"It's pretty," Aerrow said kindly. It was crafted into the shape of a leaf, giving it an almost delicate look. "Makes more sense than clothes," Aerrow pointed out.

"Not really," Piper argued. "Clothes are useful. This crystal's a dud."

"But it's more practical to hang on to."

Piper smiled. "Maybe you're not as dumb as I thought."

Aerrow ducked his head. There was something about her demeanor, not just her words, that kept making him feel foolish.

They were quiet again for so long that Aerrow began to wonder if she had fallen asleep sitting up. But then she said, "When they wake up, I'll give you guys some food and water for you to go on. You can take the extra bedroll, too."

"You . . . you don't want to stick with us? You're welcome to, you know."

Piper just glared at him. "Why? So I can cook your meals and mend your boo-boos?"

Aerrow was taken aback. "No! I just mean you're welcome to join us. Maybe we could . . . help each other."

"You mean _me_ help _you_."

Aerrow didn't know why she was so suspicious all of a sudden, but he certainly didn't want her to continue to have the wrong impression. "I . . . I don't like the idea of you wandering out here . . . alone," he said at last, not knowing how else to put it.

She lowered her head, and Aerrow couldn't see her face or guess what she was thinking.

"I'd like your help," Aerrow admitted, "but I also want to help _you_."

For the longest time she didn't say anything, and Aerrow was afraid that she was going to refuse him for sure now. Why had he made it sound like he pitied her?

But finally she said, "You guys wouldn't get very far without me, anyway."

Aerrow smiled. She was going to travel with them! "So where will we go?" he asked her.

She turned to him excitedly. "I have a compass," she explained. "If we head south, we should eventually get out of the Cyclonian lands. Where we are now, we're in the northern kingdoms conquered by Cyclonia and its allies: Bogaton, Bluster, Nimbus, all those terras. If we head south, we'll be in Atmosia territories."

Aerrow clenched his fists at the mention of Nimbus. Trying to push that out of his mind, he thought about what she had just told him. They could leave Cyclonia! For good! Forever!

But now she had successfully confused him. They fell to silence as Aerrow tried to puzzle out her behavior. His head spun in circles. First she was rude, then she cared for them, then she was suspicious and untrusting, and now . . . she was excitedly sharing her plans?

It was no use trying to puzzle it out. Aerrow tried to get his mind on other things. As he looked at her old, soiled clothes, he got an idea. "Hey," he said, getting her attention. He pointed to his bag. "One of these outfits is meant for a girl. You want to try it?"

Piper looked surprised. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Sure I'm sure. It's not like I can ever wear it, right?" He dug into the bag until he found at last the pieces of the girl's outfit: the sleeveless shirt, the skinny pants, and the gloves that were so long that they worked as detached sleeves. "Here." He threw her the clothes.

Piper looked down at the clothes as if she couldn't believe it. Aerrow knew that look, and he suspected that it had been a long time since she'd worn anything decent. "Th-thank you," she muttered, seeming stunned. She went off behind the rocks beyond their camp to put them on in privacy.

When she came back, Aerrow couldn't help smiling. She looked awkward in them for now. The shirt was baggy and too full in the chest, the sleeves on her gloves went up past her shoulders, and the pants were a little too long, something she seemed to make up for by tucking them into her boots. Still, the style suited her. Blue went with her hair, even though it was a different shade, and the orange matched her eyes almost perfectly. Aerrow would bet that in a few years, with Piper getting taller and filling out a bit, the suit would be quite flattering on her.

But Piper mistook his smile as mockery. "I know," she said. "Too big. You don't have to say anything about it."

Aerrow put up his hands in surrender. "I didn't," he pointed out.

"You were thinking it."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yeah, right."

"Really."

"Sure."

"How do you know? You can't read my mind."

"How do you know I _can't_?"

"'Cause that'd just be weird."

Aerrow's heart warmed when he realized he'd made her laugh. It was the first time he'd heard her sound so happy and relaxed.

Everything about her was mysterious and unpredictable. One thing was for sure. Aerrow doubted he'd be able to figure her out anytime soon.

* * *

By the time Finn was awake, Aerrow's eyelids were heavy, and he could tell Piper was no better. She finally said it was okay to sleep, leaving Finn bored out of his mind. Radarr spent the time investigating new scents and chasing insects . . . not providing any fun.

Sighing in discontent, Finn looked at Aerrow's and Piper's sleeping forms. They slept awfully close together. Okay, so the bedrolls were laid close together and they didn't want to sleep on the ground. It didn't mean anything, but Finn liked to play with ideas and put context where there was none. He imagined Aerrow and Piper waking up together and him there to chant, _Piper and Aerrow sittin' in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G._

He just didn't like the idea of mentioning "tree." It was a rather sad thing to say in this case. All of them would rather be sitting in a tree, kissing or not, than here in the Wastelands.

Still, Finn scowled at Aerrow as he slept. Now not only had the redhead got them into this mess, but he'd gotten this strange girl to tag along. They didn't know anything about her, except how she got here. And Finn didn't like the way Aerrow was smitten with her. Much as Finn would like to tease him, it wasn't exactly that he had goo-goo eyes over her (that would be something Finn could understand); he just . . . liked her. It was like he realized he met a long lost sister or something.

So what was it that Aerrow liked so much about her? And after being so suspicious of all of them, she had seemed so warm toward Aerrow in sparing moments. Why? Finn didn't know. All he knew was that he didn't like her, and he didn't think she liked him much either. He could already tell she was stuck-up and had a geeky side. He never liked geeks, and he _certainly_ didn't like stuck-ups. They were party-poopers who never had any fun. And they tended not to like people who did like fun . . . such as Finn.

After some more time of being bored, Finn picked up a rock and started tossing it in the air. Every now and then, he looked over at Aerrow's still form and thought about throwing the rock at him, but each time he decided against it. That could cause a scuffle, and Finn wasn't dumb enough to think he could take on Aerrow. A full-grown man would have trouble with Aerrow, much less himself, even as awesome a fighter as he was.

Momentarily he glanced at Radarr as he realized something; Aerrow had never asked Radarr's opinion in the matter. As long as Finn had known Aerrow, every major decision he made he put forward to Radarr. But this time, Aerrow had gone ahead and invited Piper to join them without consulting Finn or Radarr. Sure, he'd hinted at it before they made camp, but he'd never actually _discussed_ it. Finn and Radarr had just woken up and were told all the decisions had been made without them. Aerrow had argued the point that it was Piper's decision to come, but Finn still felt he and Radarr should the right to shun her. Not that Finn would. He wasn't that coldhearted. It was just the principle of the matter.

Maybe, Finn thought, next time he'll take charge. Or even Piper temporarily. So long as Aerrow didn't lead. See how Aerrow liked _that!_

But while he was watching Radarr and lost in his own musings, Radarr suddenly stiffened. He lifted his head, pricked his ears forward, and lifted a paw like a pointer dog.

Finn straightened up at once. "Radarr, what is it?"

Radarr churred quietly and pointed at some rocks that helped seclude their camp. His eyes were wide with fright.

Fearfully Finn crept forward toward the rocks, and he and Radarr peered over them. What he saw made him tremble.

"Aerrow!" Scrambling over to the bedrolls, Finn started to shake his friend's shoulder, forgetting for the moment that he had decided not to let Aerrow lead. "Aerrow, wake up! Wake up!"

Aerrow groaned as he came to, his hand going to the bandage on his head. "Come on, Finn, I haven't slept for almost day."

"Seriously, dude!" Finn said. "Ya gotta wake up!"

"Why?" Aerrow groaned. "What now?"

"More of those monster things!" Finn pointed to the sky beyond the rocks.

Aerrow sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to see. Indeed, the same sort of bat that had attacked Finn earlier was circling above, but this time there were three. Aerrow studied them. He wasn't sure if they were circling them or something else, but he didn't want to find out.

"Get the supplies," Aerrow said. "I'll wake Piper. We're getting out of here."

* * *

Author's Notes: Wow. That chapter had absolutely no action right up until the end there, and that was mediocre at best. Seriously, I wrote this on whims. I need to have some character bonding at some point. And then the whole thing with Finn was to show his thoughts on the changes in place; after all, I've been kind of ignoring Finn's view of all this.


	14. Chapter 13: Wanderers

Chapter 13: Wanderers

_I can pretty much take care of myself; I don't walk around with much fear._

~Carla Gugino

And so began the march again, this time with their fourth companion. They were an odd bunch, at best. Aerrow led the way, trudging along in front, his pack of clothes slung over his shoulder. It wasn't that he decided to lead; it was simply that the others followed. To be honest, he was expecting Piper to shoulder him aside any minute, but she just pointed him south and let him call the shots for now.

Radarr followed along behind him, sometimes on two legs, sometimes on four. When he was weary, he always went on four legs, trudging along with his head lowered and ears and tail drooping, like an exhausted pack mule.

Piper followed along behind them. Sometimes she even walked with Aerrow or got up to the front.

Finn brought up the rear, dragging his feet. He only spoke to complain about his misery. Aerrow wished he would stop. Not only was it annoying, but it only reminded the rest of them of their own complaints. Finn complained about hunger, thirst, tiredness, and the horrible air, all conditions that the rest of them were suffering from as well.

But Aerrow pushed them onward. He didn't know where he was pushing them to. All he knew was that they had to keep moving. "There has to be a terra with a more gradual slop somewhere where we could climb out."

"Aerrow, don't you know how the terras were made?" Piper asked.

Aerrow blinked at her. He'd never thought much about it. He had vague memories of such history lessons when he was with Old Timer, but history was never an interest of his, and he didn't retain it.

Finn just rolled his eyes. "No, we don't," he answered Piper. "But I bet you'll tell us."

"The terras," Piper said, "were created when catastrophic storms ripped through Atmos, stripping away at the land and leaving only certain sections—the terras—intact. What we're walking on right now is a thin piece of crust right over the mantel, which is what the Wastelands are, basically—exposed mantel."

"That means . . . ?" Finn asked hesitantly, obviously confused. Aerrow didn't seem to quite grasp it, either.

Piper rolled her eyes at their stupidity. "I'm just saying," she answered, "there's no way a terra can have a gradual slope."

Finn blinked. "Oh,"

"What about erosion?" Aerrow asked.

Piper shook her head. "I'm telling you, Aerrow. It's just not possible."

"Well," Aerrow countered, "we'll find some way to climb out. We still need to find a terra where that's possible."

Piper sighed, but apparently she didn't have any bright ideas to offer since she didn't continue the matter.

They finally stopped to rest after enough complaining by Finn. While Radarr curled up on a rock and Finn sat down on the ground with a loud sigh, Piper set about replacing Aerrow's bandage.

As she worked, Aerrow said, "I think that's the last bandage we should use for this."

"What's makes you think you'll be healed by then?" Piper hissed at him.

"I'll be healed enough," Aerrow argued. "I never even felt it to begin with. It's not even bleeding, is it?"

"No, but we want to protect the wound," Piper insisted. She picked up a lock of his hair. "Which would be easier if we cut some of this hair off."

Aerrow suddenly drew back and put his hands on his head. "Don't you _dare!_" he hissed.

Piper raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was the first time Aerrow was harsh with her.

"Oh, yeah," Finn said Piper. "Aerrow doesn't get haircuts. He's paranoid about it."

Aerrow didn't appreciate the description. "You're not too crazy about someone changing your hair, either."

"_Duh_," Finn said. "Because my hair is _awesome!_"

"Really?" Aerrow challenged, not liking the implication.

"Yeah," Finn answered. "At least mine doesn't look like a bird's nest."

"Oh, leave it alone, you guys," Piper said, rolling her eyes in exasperation and moving away from them both. "I'm not cutting anyone's hair. That satisfy everyone?"

Grudgingly the boys agreed.

While Piper was busy finishing up the bandage, Finn got a little too curious and was soon looking into Piper's pack. "What's that?" he asked when he saw an item that excited him.

When Piper saw that he was messing with her pack, she gasped and ran toward him. "Don't touch that!" she yelled, snatching it away.

"Aw, come on!" Finn said. "I was just looking! And did I see a _slingshot_?"

Aerrow raised his eyebrows. He remembered Finn during their escape, where he had knocked out a Talon with deadly aim with a rock. It had been pretty miraculous, but Finn's words had been, _I'd have done better with a slingshot._

Piper sighed as she pulled out the homemade wooden slingshot. "I don't think it's made right," she said. "Either that, or I don't have the greatest aim."

Aerrow stood up. "Let's see," he said.

She picked up a rock and aimed for the middle of a boulder. The rock struck the side of the boulder.

"Dang, you suck," Finn said.

Piper glared at him. "Let's see _you_ do better."

"Alright," Finn said, getting up. "You will!"

Finn placed another stone on top of the boulder. Then he took a throwing stone and put it in the slingshot. With deadly accuracy, he knocked the rock right off the boulder.

Piper gasped in amazement, and Aerrow smiled in awe, even though he wasn't a bit surprised.

Smirking, Finn turned back to them with a loud, triumphant, "Chica-cha!"

Piper let Finn keep the slingshot.

Soon they were all underway again, but they didn't get far before they had to stop and sleep.

When they awoke, they were off again, Aerrow leading the way . . . again, not because he chose to, but because he had decided where to go, and the others followed.

By the end of the day, they needed to stop to rest, but there didn't seem to be anywhere where they could make camp and not worry about predators. Everywhere was too exposed.

Piper finally decided to stop and look around. She climbed up on a rock, not bothering to take her pack off her back. Unfortunately, she didn't realize her pack was open. "Piper, watch it!" Finn cried.

But it was too late. The compass spilled out. "Oops," Piper said as it tumbled down below to land at the edge of a lava river.

"Nice goin'," Finn said. "Now how are we supposed to know where to go?"

"I've got it," Aerrow said, stepping toward it.

"Aerrow, no!" Piper was off the rock in a moment, getting in front of him. "It's too close to the lava! Not only is that harmful to you, but something could come out of there!

"I'll be fine," Aerrow insisted. "Don't worry."

As Aerrow stepped forward, Radarr swallowed and started to follow, but Aerrow turned around. "No, Radarr," he told him sternly. "Stay here."

Radarr whimpered nervously. If Aerrow was going to be fine, why was he telling him to stay here?

Piper took a breath. "Aerrow, you don't have to—"

But Aerrow was already at the lava's edge. Piper and Finn held their breath as he knelt down and picked up the compass.

Aerrow started walking back to them, wiping away the sweat forming on his forehead from the heat. "See?" he said. "Nothing to it."

Just as he said it, a magma beast reeled its head out of the lava behind him. "Aerrow!" Piper cried.

Aerrow spun around and staggered backward. He was soon scrambling back to the others. The magma beast looked inclined to follow, but Finn acted fast, shooting it right between the eyes. Roaring in pain, the snake-like beast ducked its head and disappeared into the lake.

Aerrow smiled at Finn. "Thanks, Finn," he said.

"No problem, dude," Finn answered back, but his face was tight.

Piper frowned as Aerrow handed back the compass. "Aerrow, that was stupid."

"I'm alright, though."

"You almost weren't!"

"But I am."

Piper shook her head, but she finally gave up on the subject.

* * *

There seemed to be a constant motion now: traveling, sleeping, traveling, sleeping. Without the sun, it was hard to tell how many days passed, but it felt like weeks. Their food supplies, however, spoke of only three days or so . . . and they were getting low. Much to Aerrow's and Finn's pleasure, Piper had a calendar and a watch, and she was able to tell what date it was. Three days was about correct.

And Aerrow learned more. From the date, he learned he had been imprisoned for nearly a year and a half.

With each day, Piper grew more trusting of them. Finn's favorite activity to do was annoy her, if he wasn't too tired, and Piper once said she hated him, but she didn't seem to mean it. As for Aerrow, Piper seemed to find him easy to talk to and was always there to make sure that Aerrow didn't take his shaky "leadership" too seriously. Anything that had to do with crystals, she seemed to know it, and with the few crystals with her she seemed to be able to do anything. Best of all, she was a great cook.

* * *

Aerrow was sound asleep when he felt someone shake his shoulder. He knew that it must be Finn. "What is it this time?" he groaned, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Aerrow!" Finn said. "We've gotta move!"

This was a vaguely familiar situation. "Now what?" Aerrow grumbled.

"A volcano! It's about to blow!"

Aerrow's eyes flew open. "_Volcano?_"

No sooner had he said it when the ground began to rumble. More than usual, anyway.

Eruptions were common here, being the Wastelands, and eruptions caused the ground to shake, even if they were far away. But this was probably the highest on the Richter scale Aerrow had ever felt!

Quickly he bolted to his feet, looking around. The volcano over the tops of the rocks secluding their camp site were about to blow. And what was worse, being backed up to large boulders, they would have to run past the volcano to escape to safety. Ironic, Aerrow thought, that they had to go toward the volcano to get away from it.

He turned to Finn and Radarr. "Grab the supplies!" he shouted.

Radarr screeched in acknowledgement, and he and Finn turned and were scrambling to pick everything up.

Aerrow knelt down beside Piper and started shaking her. "Piper!" he shouted. "Piper, get up! We gotta go!"

Piper opened her eyes groggily. "_What?_" she hissed, wiping her eyes.

"An eruption!" Aerrow pointed past the rocks. "We gotta get outta here!"

It seemed to be about that moment that Piper realized the ground was shaking. Trying to push herself up without losing her balance, her eyes met Aerrow's, and this time they weren't annoyed: they were scared.

They had everything collected within seconds, but they were precious seconds. As the four friends ran past the volcano just as the first streams of lava slid down and fiery-hot rocks shot into the air above them.

They collapsed a little way off, all of the humans huffing and Radarr panting up a storm.

Aerrow looked up at the spewing volcano now a good distance away. "Phew!" he called. "That was close!"

"Too close," Finn grumbled.

"Kinda fun, though," Aerrow commented with a smile.

Finn just glared at him. "You're so weird."

Piper just looked at the volcano with a faraway stare.

* * *

Stork had made himself at home in the _Condor_. He spent all his time finding spare crystals for the ship, fixing up the power and appliances. (Running toilets! Fresh water! Food storage! Maybe he wasn't doomed after all.) He had also found the room where he believed the previous pilot had lived, finding a leather uniform unharmed. It had a large X across the front. When Stork put it on, he sort of liked it. It probably carried lots of deadly diseases or some sort of brain flea, but it wasn't a bad fit.

He found everything: supplies filled with the sort of nasty foods that _refuses_ to expire, brooms, the water tank (still full but did need lots of cleaning – probably going to get some deadly disease from it), and of course, all of the ships gears. He replaced the frontal window and began to get rid of the _Condor_'s rust, soot, and sulfur spots, inside and outside. But even with his vigorous working, he knew it might be months, even years before she was in a good enough shape to dare a test flight.

That is, _if_ he could ever fly her.

He looked all over the dang ship, _everywhere_. But nowhere could he find the key.

He tried not to think about it. The way he figured it, by the time the ship was ready to fly, he will have found it. Unless it was swallowed by man-eating magma beasts.

But it didn't make sense to him that it hadn't been stuck in the key slot at the helm. It _should _have been there. The _Condor_ had fallen in action. Everyone knew it. The story of the fall of the Storm Hawks was no mystery. And as if the story wasn't enough, Stork had seen the evidence himself when he found the pilot's finger bones still wrapped around the wheel. There was no time to have taken the key out.

But despite all that, it wasn't in the key slot.

It must have fallen out onto the floor, Stork decided. He knew all sorts of bacteria and diseases must live on that nasty floor, but he still searched every inch of the bridge before he dared to clean it too vigorously. He was probably going to die of illness as a result, and he still had no key to show for it.

It made no sense. Grumbling inarticulately to himself, he stomped around the ship, doing chores, always looking for a crystal key.

But one day, when he was out on the landing strip repairing the hole in it, a sound reached his ears that made him freeze. Stock-still, the only movement was the flicking of his long, rabbit-like ears, which he pricked in the direction of the sound.

It was the sound of _skyrides!_

Stork began to shake, wondering if he should get inside the ship and take cover. He could only think of it being Cyclonians. It was usually the way his luck worked.

He got out a spyglass that he had found in the _Condor_ and took a look.

Oh, yeah. He was right. Cyclonians.

Talon Switchblades. He could hardly believe his eyes. _Talons_, who were known throughout Atmos as being ill-prepared troops due to Cyclonia's fast, mass training program, were actually flying in the _Wastelands!_

Stork couldn't guess what they were doing here. He kept the glass on them as they flew. They ran parallel to him, following along the ground in an irregular path, as if looking for something or . . . following something.

Stork watched them until they were out of sight, heading south. They had never turned in his direction, never spotted him.

The Merb let out a sigh of relief. But his relief was short-lived. Where there were six Talons there could be more. They could attack him. Worse, they could attack the _Condor_.

Stork was determined to protect his new ship. He looked his screwdriver over carefully, trying to determine what to do with it. It was time to set some traps.

* * *

Author's Notes: And Stork returns! Only to disappear for quite a few chapters again.

*Stork fangirls raise pitchforks*

Wait! Don't you want to know what happens to Stork later?

*fangirls lower pitchforks*

That's what I thought!

*fangirls give death glares*

Okay . . . I'm going to leave now . . .


	15. Chapter 14: Something to Believe In

Chapter 14: Something to Believe In

_Faith is the light that guides you through the darkness._

~Anonymous

As they continued on, a day passed, and supplies were almost gone. Everyone was discouraged. Finn's feet were aching, but Aerrow wasn't letting up their pace. Finn got quieter, angry that Aerrow wouldn't let them stop. It was some time before he let them rest.

After taking a break for a little bit, Aerrow stood up. "We should keep moving." He started walking off.

"Why don't we stay here awhile?" Finn suggested.

"Come on, Finn," Aerrow said, still walking. Radarr had already gotten up and started to follow, while Piper was grabbing her backpack.

But Finn felt the anger he had back at their days ago camp. Now Aerrow was acting like a hotshot again, not even listening to him! "No," Finn said, quietly, not bothering to get up.

Everyone froze. Aerrow looked over his shoulder, seeming annoyed. "_What?_"

"No," Finn said, "I want to rest."

"We don't have a lot of stuff to eat," Aerrow pointed out. "We have to keep moving."

"To _what?_" Finn asked.

Aerrow opened his mouth, but then closed it. He didn't have an answer.

Piper came to his rescue. "We're looking for a terra, remember?" she said, her eyes switching between the two boys. "After we cross the border." She seemed neither awkward nor upset, but her opinion seemed inclined to agree with Aerrow's.

"Right," Aerrow said to Piper's answer. "We're going to use the terra to climb out."

"I'm tired, and I'm hungry," Finn said. "I'm staying here. You can walk off if you like, but I'm staying here."

"Finn," Piper said, "you're being ridiculous. Now get up!"

"No!"

"Finn . . ."

"You're not the boss of me! You're not even part of this! You're just a silly girl!"

"Finn!" Aerrow scolded, shocked.

Finn just huffed and crossed his arms. She was a stupid girl. And Aerrow was being stupid, too. All Finn wanted to do was rest.

Piper closed her eyes and drew in a breath as her dark face started to have a ting of red and her hands were clenched into fists. "Fine!" she shouted at last, her temper suddenly flaring. "Stay here and starve! We're moving on." She turned around and marched away. Aerrow couldn't tell whether she was just trying to get Finn to follow or whether she was serious.

Aerrow, however, felt deflated. There was no way he was leaving Finn here, but there was no way he was letting Piper go off on her own, either. Somehow, in the course of a minute or less, the group had been severed.

He looked over at Finn again, who still sat with a deep huff on his face, almost like a pout, and he had his arms crossed. He wouldn't meet Aerrow's eyes, only glaring ahead of him. He seemed to have no inclination of getting up.

Aerrow sighed. "Guess we could stay here a little while."

Piper whirled around. "What? No! Aerrow, we've got to keep moving!"

"We can't just leave him here," Aerrow pointed out, pointing to Finn.

"Then make him come along."

"I can hear you!" Finn taunted. "And I'm not going anywhere!"

Piper rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Fine," she huffed. She came back to sit down, but as she did, she bumped Aerrow's shoulder roughly with her own to show her discontent. She plopped herself down as far away from Finn as possible without being truly away from him.

Aerrow, worried about Finn's outburst, went to kneel next to him. "Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"No!" Finn growled back. "I just want to rest!"

"We've got to go," Aerrow said. "If not now, then soon."

"What if I don't _want_ to go, huh?" Finn asked. "What then? You can't make me do everything you say!"

Aerrow swallowed to keep his rising anger in check. "What's with you?" he hissed in annoyance. "You're acting like a jerk!"

"Oh, look who's talking!" Finn jeered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You!" Finn said. "You've been acting like this is your own little troop to order around! And it's because of that that we're out here in the first place! This is all your fault!"

Aerrow grit his teeth. "If it weren't for me," he pointed out, "we'd still be stuck in _there_." He dare not say "the prison mine" within Piper's possible hearing range.

Finn looked him straight in the eye. "Well, I'd rather be _there_," he said, "then _here_."

Aerrow recoiled at the statement.

But Finn wasn't done. "You may rather die, Aerrow. But I like living. And if I hadn't come with, I might have a better chance at that."

"And you want to live like _that?_" Aerrow countered back.

"Better than dying."

"We're _not_ going to die."

Finn used to believe Aerrow was always right, but now he knew better. He met his eyes. "You've been wrong before."

Aerrow had enough of this. He got up and walked away, pacing a short distance off to try to calm himself.

Eventually, once he'd walked himself out, he felt the anger, worry, stress, everything just drain from him and cumulate into weariness. Overcome, he finally sat down—far away from Finn _and_ Piper—with his back to a rock.

Just as he did, he felt a nudge on his hand. When he looked down, he smiled.

Radarr was there, trying to comfort him as he always was. With a small grin at seeing Aerrow smile, he lightly placed a paw on Aerrow's arm, his way of letting him know everything would be okay.

Aerrow scratched behind his ears, never more grateful for him. "What would I do without you?" he said.

Radarr churred and rubbed his head against Aerrow's hand.

Aerrow looked up at his other friends. Finn still looked angry, and Aerrow doubted there was anything he could say at that moment that would help matters. But Piper . . . Piper didn't look angry anymore. She looked . . . downhearted. Worried, Aerrow kept his gaze on her for a moment, wondering what to do.

Seeing his attention so drawn, Radarr turned his head and pricked his ears in Piper's direction. Then, looking back up at Aerrow, he churred and gestured to Piper with his head.

Aerrow hesitated. He wasn't sure it was a good idea for him to go to her. It was an easy thing for Radarr to comfort Aerrow—he just had to be his good, loving self and let Aerrow pet him—whereas Aerrow would have to find the right words to comfort Piper.

Concern finally drove him to his feet, and he headed to Piper almost against his will. Radarr stayed where he was, sitting on his haunches and pricking his ears, willing just to hang back for this one.

When Aerrow approached Piper, he did so slowly and tentatively. "Piper?" he asked her.

Piper looked up. "Hi," she greeted him, but she didn't smile.

"Hey," Aerrow answered back. Awkward silence. Aerrow inwardly flinched. He was off to a bad start.

Finally Piper said, "Want to sit down?" Gratefully, Aerrow took a seat beside her.

Not knowing what else to do, Aerrow got right to the point. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I heard you talking with Finn," she said.

Aerrow stiffened. Did that mean she was going to ask what _there_ was?

She said, "You never told me where you were from."

Aerrow immediately wished he hadn't sat with her.

Piper looked at him, but instead of waiting for an answer, she started off on something else. "When I lost my home, it . . . it was terrible. There was fire, and screaming, and energy blasts . . ."

"And you live it in your nightmares," Aerrow said. He understood. Even more, he knew. And in talking of this, he forgot to wonder what this had to do with his discussion with Finn.

"I never found a place to stay afterward. I kept on the move, having barely enough to get by . . . Aerrow," Piper said, "I just . . . sometimes I wonder if there really is anything left to hope for, you know? I mean, if all these bad things happened, then what's to keep them from happening again?"

Aerrow wasn't sure why she was telling him all of this. He could only compare it to his own hopelessness. "Yeah," he said at last. "I know."

"I used to wish I knew what happened to my family," Piper says. "I still wonder a little. But . . . I know. I think I've always known."

"But you didn't see it?"

"No."

Aerrow nodded and he stared far away, his gaze glazing over. His memories now had faded—he'd tried so hard to block them out—but he could still hear his mother's screams.

He knew more than he wanted to know.

Piper looked at him, studying him. "You saw, didn't you?"

Aerrow nodded. But he finally forced himself to look in her eyes. "But that's the past," he insisted. "We're here now. That's all that matters."

"We're here . . . That's what worries me. Aerrow . . . what if he's right?"

"What? Who?" Now Aerrow was confused.

"Finn. What if what he said is right? What if we don't find a way out of here?"

Oh. That. "We will," Aerrow said determinedly.

"But what if we don't?"

Aerrow just smiled. "Piper," he said, "if we help each other, we all stand a chance of making it out of here."

"You truly believe that?" Piper asked, sounding unconvinced.

Aerrow glanced over at Radarr before turning back to Piper. "It's all I've ever had to believe in."

* * *

Author's Notes: Wow, seemed like I'd never get to that scene! This chapter is half my usual length. What can I say? I couldn't find a more ideal stopping point.


	16. Chapter 15: Free and Forsaken

Chapter 15: Free and Forsaken

_We feel free when we escape – even if it be but from the frying pan into the fire._

~Eric Hoffer

Eventually Aerrow, Radarr, Piper, and Finn had been resting for so long that they grew sleepy. But sometime before that their issues between them were resolved. There was no talking out their problems or coming to an agreement. It was if they simply had silently agreed to forgive and forget.

They found themselves at last laid out together. Finn, perhaps feeling bit of guilt for his earlier blow out, offered to be the one to sleep without a bedroll. So with bedrolls below Aerrow and Piper and Finn simply lying on the ground, the three lay on their backs, putting their hands behind their heads, their heads making the three points of a triangle so they could talk easily. Radarr curled up on the very edge of Aerrow's mat.

Finn sighed. "Don't ya wish we could see stars for a change?"

"Yeah," Aerrow agreed, a smile lighting his face. He'd always loved the sky. There was a time—for him it seemed like something out of a dream now—where he soared through the blue skies with clouds kissing his face. And at night, he used to be lost forever in the heavens, filled with lights that were like spirits watching over him. "I wish."

"Been awhile," Piper agreed. "Amazing what you get used to."

"I'm not used to it," Aerrow argued.

"Well, we've all gotten used to being on our own, haven't we?" Piper pointed. "I've been on my own for two years now."

"Two _years?_" Finn said incredulously. "It hasn't even been a year for me."

They were quiet for a moment, and then Finn turned to Aerrow. "How 'bout you?"

It was quiet again. Then, just when Finn was about to ask again, Aerrow said, "Over five years."

He heard Piper gasp.

Finn raised his head and looked over Aerrow. "Really?"

"No, Finn," Aerrow grumbled sarcastically. "I'd totally lie about that."

Finn rolled his eyes. "Well, _sorry_," he grumbled, laying his head back down.

Aerrow smiled all the same. "Don't worry," he said. "It's not me you have to be sorry for." He scratched Radarr's ears. "I found Radarr here not long after I lost my home. He was all alone. Who knows how long he's been on his own."

"Bet he's had you longer than he's been alone," Piper added kindly.

Radarr churred in agreement, making everyone laugh.

Finn closed his eyes, as if on the verge of falling asleep. "I can't wait to see stars again."

"We will," Piper assured him, beating Aerrow to it.

"I know," Finn answered.

Aerrow smiled, glad his friends had hope again.

As they grew quiet, Aerrow knew that they had probably fallen asleep. Radarr was whuffling softly, his own form of snoring.

Aerrow lay awake, however, for now that he had assured his friends of hope, he was falling into his own despair. He wondered: had he really done the right thing, by taking Finn and Radarr from the prison? They were free from the Cyclonian prison mine, but now they were in another prison in and of itself: the Wastelands. When, and how, would they get out of this one? There were no Fire Pit escapes here, except the literal kind.

Whatever they did, it would have to be soon. They couldn't last much longer.

* * *

Grimsley smiled as he looked out over the clouds. Yes, _clouds._ He, Twister, and Kite were finally out of that wretched prison. And now they were here, in a holding facility. It was still a lot of hard work training, but it was a far cry from mine work. They were getting good food now and real beds to sleep in, and no one was yelling at them. Best of all, there were a lot less rules.

Grimsley had proclaimed himself leader of this youth brigade. But the brigade didn't exist yet. He wasn't quite old enough to lead a group until next year. This "holding facility" was really a nice luxury place in a Cyclonian settlement. For once, everyone was going to a training academy with other Cyclonian kids and hanging out with them like they had a real home. Grimsley and his group were already running the school.

There were posters up at the academy and around town talking about how cool it was to be a Cyclonian. They were trying especially to attract youths. Grimsley kept his eyes out for anyone interested. Six kids were needed at the least to form a brigade, and the more, the better. Anyone tough enough to hold out with him would work.

He stepped away from the window and sat down at the table next with Twister and Kite. The boys were having dinner together. Grimsley always got extra helpings as he requested, and despite his training, he was keeping his weight on just fine. He dug in like a pig, and perhaps it was because of his table manners that Twister and Kite were keeping their distance from him.

Grimsley looked up at them, smiling. "We did it, boys!" he said. "I still can't believe we did it!" He started talking with his mouth full as he continued. "And we got special thanks to you, Twister, for setting the stage for us."

Twister nodded curtly but didn't say anything. He didn't even offer a smile.

Grimsley looked between the two brothers. They were practically sitting at other ends of the table. They had never been particularly close, but they had always cared about each other. Right now, it looked as if they were going out of their way to avoid each other. "Hey," Grimsley said, "what's with you guys? You having issues?"

"Ask _him_," Kite huffed at Twister.

"Alright," Grimsley said, turning to Twister. "I will."

"Nothing," was Twister's curt answer. He was never one of many words.

"It's not nothing," Grimsley stated harshly. By now, he had already finished eating his first helping and was going back for more. Grabbing his plate, he pointed at the two boys. "You guys better work this out. Gotta keep you boys at the top of your game."

As he left the room, Kite turned to Twister. "What?" Twister grunted.

"You know what," Kite said.

"You started it," Twister told him. "Finish it if you like. Or drop it."

"You let them go."

Twister smirked. "What was I supposed to do? Stop them? The Cyclonians would know about my tunneling."

"You could have gotten us out. We could've run."

Twister leaned forward toward his brother. "Kite," he said, "I've always looked out for ya, but I couldn't get you out, too. You know I would've gotten us out if I could've."

"So now we're Cyclonians," Kite said. "Just like you always wanted."

"I don't recall you not liking it beforehand," Twister pointed out. "What was it you told me? Oh yeah. 'Wouldn't it be _cool_ to be Cyclonian? We'd make everyone else do our work!'"

Kite's face stiffened. Finally he said, "You should've heard Grimsley. He made it sound pretty darn cool."

"Nothing's changed about it," Twister said. "Still having second thoughts?"

"No," Kite said. "I just . . . I don't know why _you_ are having second thoughts about Grimsley. He's always gotten us through! He's protected us! And he's going to make us full-fledged Talons!"

"All I ever hear from you anymore is Grimsley," Twister complained. "I'm your big brother, and you do as I say!"

"Only by a year!" Kite protested. "That doesn't make you the boss of me! Besides, it doesn't make a difference. We're in this now."

Twister stood up and went over to the window. "Yeah," he agreed, "we're in this."

Twister looked out over the clear blue skies. He loved the sight. Blue and clear . . . Grimsley was certainly right about this. This was the way they were meant to live. Out here in the skies, making a difference. Even as he wondered about better prospects, he couldn't ignore what Grimsley had done for them.

But for some reason, Aerrow's words haunted him. _You don't have to be with him . . . Grimsley's filled your head with lies! You can go out and be a servant of Hell . . ._

_We're not Cyclonians. We never will be._

Twister closed his eyes and clenched fists, trying to keep from showing his emotions to his brother. He had been right to trust Grimsley. Thanks to him, he was free at last, free of the prison, free of worries and troubles, of everything! He now had all he wanted!

So how come he felt so forsaken?

* * *

Terra Wallop was a far cry from any Cyclonian outpost or the Wastelands. But one soul on Terra Wallop was thinking very much about those outposts.

There had been rumors about Cyclonians asking for young recruits. Wallops normally kept to their own, but Chief Thragg did have respect for Cyclonia. It was not unthinkable to believe that such propaganda would be allowed.

But Junko didn't know whether the rumors were true. The young, grey-haired boy Wallop just thought it was just that, a rumor. So he refused to dream about it.

Today had been another day of excelling in the classroom. Too bad Wallops didn't focus more on academics. Most of their classes were athletic . . . Junko's only failing grades.

On his way out of the schoolyard, he stopped and peered in one of the bushes, as was his custom. "Minky?" he called.

There was a little rustling from within the bushes. Slowly, quietly, a little blue reptile crawled out of the bushes. He was a lot like an iguana, but Junko would have said he had the face of a teddy bear. A Gleep, he was.

Junko picked up the Gleep and cradled him, smiling as Minky nuzzled him. Minky had been with Junko since their youth, and being a reptile, he had a relatively long lifespan. But now he was starting to feel the years and did not give Junko the enthusiastic greeting he used to.

But Minky's nuzzling was still rough enough to knock Junko's glasses askew. Laughing again, he set Minky down. "Easy, Minky. These aren't cheap." He adjusted his glasses and patted Minky on the head. "Told ya I'd be back right after school!" He smiled. "What would you like to do?"

Minky tilted his head to the side, considering Junko's question. He was certainly not a dumb creature; in fact, thanks to him, Junko was convinced Gleeps had more smarts than most Wallops.

"Hey, Junko!"

Trembling at the sound of the voice, Minky scrambled into the bushes again. Junko looked up sadly. It was Dar, the school's top athletic student . . . and top bully.

The young Wallop, although about Junko's age, was definitely bigger, standing almost a head taller than Junko. Junko, like all Wallops, was bulky and muscular, built like a bull. But Dar . . . Dar was built like a tank. And he had a sidekick, a rhino of a Wallop named Redner.

Dar smirked at Junko. "What's the little wimp up to now?" he asked.

Junko lowered his head. "Nothing," he muttered. Dar didn't always beat Junko up after school—he didn't think Junko was worth his time—but he always took a chance to poke fun at him.

"Counting daisy peddles, I say," Dar said. "He can't do anything else."

Redner laughed at that. "Wallops don't count daisy peddles!" His voice sounded high and whiny. He pointed at Junko. "Hey, we got an outsider here!"

"I'm a Wallop!" Junko muttered back angrily.

That only made Redner laugh harder.

Junko glared at him but said nothing more. He always felt angry when other Wallops made fun of him, but his fear always kept his tongue in check.

Dar chuckled. "How about you _prove_ you're a Wallop?"

Junko pricked his ears at the idea. "How?"

Dar pointed to a boulder that stood twice as tall as himself. "Pick up that boulder. _Any_ Wallop can pick up a boulder that tiny!"

Junko looked at the boulder, and his face fell. He knew he could never lift that. Wordlessly he turned and walked away. Quietly Minky scuttled out of the bushes and followed him.

"Look at him go!" Redner called. "Him and his little Gleep!"

Dar laughed after him. "You're not a Wallop!" he called after him. "You're a Gleep!"

Junko wanted to turn around and give Dar a hard punch. He wanted to lift that boulder high above his head and show his strength. He wanted to prove to all that he was worthy of being a Wallop.

But deep down, Junko couldn't help thinking maybe Dar was right.

If only the rumors were true. War would give him a chance to make a name for himself.

But Junko thought that his chance would never come.

"To think!" Dar exclaimed as he and Redner walked away. "Eunice is so tough!"

"Yeah," Redner said, "and Junko such a loser! She must be so embarrassed!"

Junko hung his head and watched them walk away.

* * *

Lance was getting discouraged. The search had been going on for too long now. As he plodded along, he found Sparrow's trail harder to follow, sometimes invisible. Somehow they'd gotten provisions. That was the only way he was tracking them now, their waste products, mostly food cans. They were out there somewhere, and somehow they were surviving. But with six days of being out in the Wastelands, how much longer could they last?

Lance had mixed feelings about finding Sparrow, Radarr, and their boy companion. The sooner he captured them again or found evidence of their death, the sooner he and his men could go home. He knew the boys and the critter couldn't survive here forever, and if they weren't swallowed up in one gulp by one of the magma beasts, then they could suffer only a few other possible fates, all horrible. The best would be to be burned alive by lava. As terrible as that was, they would feel no pain; the heat would be too much for their nerves. Any other animal would have to rip them apart, and oftentimes carnivores start to eat their prey before it's dead. Then there was the most likely possibility: dying of dehydration or starvation.

But much as he didn't want them to suffer those fates, what would happen to them if he took them back? Conditions in the prison mine had made them desperate enough to brave the Wastelands to escape in the first place. Would it be more merciful to let them die instead of taking them back?

He was looking around an area with the rest of the Talons. This area, partially protected, looked like an ideal place for a camp, and according to their trail, the boys had not camped for some time when they got here.

He heard a yell from one of the Talons, who then walked up to him. "Found this," he said, handing it to him.

Lance looked at it with interest. It was a shirt, ragged and beat up, probably not worth trying to save. But this didn't make any sense to him. The shirt did not bare the red and brown of a Cyclonian prisoner, but instead looked as if it had once been—of all colors—purple. Although made for someone young and thereby for either sex, the faded design suggested a girl's shirt.

Lance blinked in surprise. He knew Sparrow had carried around a sack of clothes with him, but he doubted that Sparrow had anything like that. Or did he? Lance felt the cloth over, trying to figure out what it meant.

"Sir?" the Talon said. "Shall I continue the search?"

"Yes, do," Lance said. "I'm not sure if this is theirs."

"It is," Gos answered gruffly. He walked up to them, holding another food can. "Contents are dry. They haven't been here for days. But they've been here."

Lance nodded. "Good," he said. "Then I guess we'll head on." He studied the old can. "We're falling behind. We've got to pick up the pace to catch them."

* * *

Author's Notes: Another one with less action, but such angst and suspense! I actually wrote Twister's reflections first. His role grows bigger with each reference back to Grimsley and his crew. Twister and Kite started out as simply being nameless henchmen, but now the newly-made brothers have peaked my interest, particularly the contradictory, shadowy Twister. I named him after Cyclonia (cyclone) for a reason.

And Junko enters in at this point! In writing this, I wrote his part separately for awhile and then had to stick him in there somewhere while rewriting a few lines to make things flow.


	17. Chapter 16: Someone Who Cares

Chapter 16: Someone Who Cares

_Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love._

~George Eliot

Aerrow, Radarr, Piper, and Finn set out pretty early the next morning due to their long rest (Piper's watch told them it was morning. Either that, or they'd slept until the evening, which was unlikely). Aerrow led the way again, more out of habit than anything, and the others followed. Finn seemed content to let Aerrow lead now, not at all upset like he was before. Aerrow took it as a reminder that if he was to set the pace, he should probably listen to the others once in while . . . other than Piper, who gave him no choice in the matter from the get-go.

As they wandered, Piper with the compass and Aerrow setting the pace, Aerrow spotted a rocky ledge just four feet or so off the ground. "What'd you say we stop to do some flips off that?"

Piper looked, too. "You're not actually serious, are you? It's right next to _lava_," she pointed out to him. "It's too close. What if you misjudged the landing?"

"I wouldn't."

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"True," Aerrow agreed. "But why not take a chance?"

"'Cause it could kill you." Piper actually sounded kind of angry.

Since her tone was so sharp, Aerrow didn't push it.

When they finally stopped to rest, Finn was soon fast asleep. Aerrow was starting to worry about him. He wasn't used to this sort of hard life. He was getting thinner and turning a little pale, and he was wearing out easier each day.

Radarr was snug against Aerrow when Piper came and sat down next to him. Aerrow was quite used to this by now. The two felt they were able to share almost anything with each other. Although Aerrow preferred to mess around with Finn rather than Piper, Piper was the person he would go to talk to so he could discuss plans, questions about life, or simply to talk.

Piper looked uneasy now. "Piper," Aerrow asked, "what's wrong?"

Piper didn't speak at first. At last she said, "Why do you do those sort of things?"

"What things?"

"_Dangerous_ things. Dumb stunts. Or sometimes you simply do something without thinking. And you never seem scared. _Why?_"

The whole doing-flips-off-the-rock thing must have brought this up. "'Cause they're fun," Aerrow said. He felt the question didn't need an explanation.

"You didn't get the compass for fun."

"Well . . . we needed the compass."

"It wouldn't have been worth it if . . . anything had happened. So why? Why weren't you afraid?"

The question posed to him was something Aerrow hadn't thought about before. Why _wasn't_ he afraid? "I guess I never really thought about it," he mused aloud. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't know what to say.

"If you've seen people . . ." she paused, not wanting to say the word _die_, ". . . than you must've of thought of it at some point."

"Maybe that's the reason," Aerrow said as he pondered the thought. He stopped and thought back to everything he'd been through. Rarely had he cared about whether he lived or died. "I've got nobody. Who've I got to be afraid for?" Aerrow was talking to himself now more than Piper. "I don't think I really care all that much what happens now. When you got nothing to live for, I guess you just start not to care."

Piper was quiet for a long, but Aerrow could tell she didn't like his answer. It seemed to make her uneasy. Aerrow lowered his head, soaking in his own words. Trying to explain to her was how he had found out for himself how he thought of this, and it made him feel almost numb.

Radarr, who had been listening, whimpered quietly, resting his head on Aerrow's leg. Aerrow gently rubbed his ears, trying to sooth him, but Radarr just stared at him with searching eyes.

At last Piper said, "You should care." She touched his shoulder lightly, drawing his eyes to hers. "You got something to live for."

Aerrow gave her a small lopsided smile. "What? Rock and lava? Look around, Piper. I haven't had the best time of it, and I'm not sure I will. I try because I got nothing else to do . . . and I don't care the outcome."

"You care about _us_, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course! But . . . that's different."

Piper pointed to him. "You said you've got nobody. But Aerrow, you've got us. And just like you care about us, _we_ care about _you_."

Radarr churred and nodded in agreement, snuggling deeper into Aerrow.

Piper's logic seemed painfully true, yet the idea that someone truly cared about him, would truly be devastated if anything happened to him, had almost never crossed his mind in five years. He knew Old Timer was fond of him and he knew the old man would have mourned him, but he believed Old Timer would have easily moved on. Same with Robin . . . most likely even less strongly. And he never really had anyone else who was a true friend before he met Finn and Piper.

Except Radarr. He knew Radarr loved him. And he also knew that Radarr's love for him was the reason he was here today. What he told Piper was true: without someone to care for him, Aerrow had given up caring about himself. He'd kept pushing on, kept from giving up beforehand, because he had Radarr.

As he acknowledged this, Aerrow gently started to hold Radarr close to him. Radarr buried his face against Aerrow, and the boy knew he'd worried his little friend.

He smiled at Piper sadly as he held Radarr. "You know," he said, seeming to go off-topic, "Radarr saved my life . . . more than once. I would have given up long ago without him. But . . . he cared."

Piper smiled at Radarr as the little guy raised his head and looked in Piper's direction. "Over five years with each other, huh?"

Both Aerrow and Radarr smiled. "Yeah," Aerrow answered while Radarr nodded. "We've hardly ever been apart since."

Piper rubbed Radarr's head. "Why, thank you, Radarr," she said. "Without you, I would have never met your friend here." She leaned forward and whispered to him. "But I think you should have trained him better."

"Hey!" Aerrow exclaimed as Piper and Radarr both laughed at him.

Piper sat in thoughtful silence a moment. Then she got up and went digging through her bag. Aerrow looked back at her in confusion. "What're you up to?"

Piper didn't answer. She just kept digging until she seemed to find what she was looking for. Smile in pleasure, she pulled out two metal rings that had about an inch-long radius. Their sides were wide and flat.

Piper brought the rings and came and sat down by Aerrow again. "Here," she said, placing one of the metal objects in his hand.

Aerrow looked at it in puzzlement. "What is it?" he asked.

"I don't know what they're supposed to be," Piper admitted, "but to us, they're bracelets."

"_Bracelets?_" Aerrow asked.

Piper nodded, slipping one of the metal rings on her left wrist. "Yup."

"You mean, like friendship bracelet," Aerrow agreed.

Piper eyed him suspiciously. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Well . . ." Aerrow said, "it is kind of a girl thing . . . ."

"Are you going to wear it or not?" Piper asked, sounding irritated, maybe even a little hurt. "Otherwise I'll take it back."

Aerrow looked down at the metal ring again. It couldn't hurt anything to humor her. He placed it on his right wrist. Even as he put it on, he smiled. It felt like it belonged there. "So . . . why?" he asked. It seemed like a strange thing to give your guy friend.

Piper just smiled. "Because I don't want you to forget that there's people who care about you."

Aerrow felt himself blushing in embarrassment, and he turned away. But his heart felt as warm as his face. He never felt luckier to have her as a friend.

But as Piper was looking at her own bracelet again, she happened to glance at her watch. Her eyes widened. "We should go."

"I'll wake Finn," Aerrow offered, getting to his feet. He started in Finn's direction.

"Aerrow . . ." Aerrow stopped when Piper grabbed his arm. He turned to look at her. "Remember what I said, okay?" she pleaded.

"I will," he agreed hastily.

"Don't just say that like it's nothing. I mean it, Aerrow."

Aerrow looked at her worried eyes and thought of the bracelet on his wrist. He gently cast her a smile. "You don't have to worry about me," he assured her.

She let got of his arm.

* * *

When they started off again, Finn didn't say anything, which was unusual. He had absolutely no complaint! Now Aerrow was _really_ starting to worry about him.

Piper took the lead a moment. "Hold on a minute, Aerrow," she said.

That's when Aerrow first heard the sound . . . that of a low hiss. Tensing, he strained his ears to hear more.

Piper didn't seem to notice. "We're heading a little east," she said, looking at her compass. "We should go—"

"Shh!" Aerrow interrupted. He was still listening for the sound.

Piper glared at him. "Don't shush me!"

In response, Aerrow just shushed her again. "You hear that?" he asked.

Piper listened, and then her brow furrowed. She heard it, but she didn't know what to make of it.

Finn's eyes widened as he heard it, too. "Dude," he said, "that doesn't sound good."

Radarr had his ears pricked all the way forward toward the sound. With a little squeal, he scampered away, then slid to a stop and looked back, screeching to urge the others to run, too.

Aerrow nodded. "Radarr's probably right. Let's get out of—"

Cutting him off was the sound of a loud whistling sound. "Look out!" Piper shouted.

Aerrow, Piper, and Finn leapt out of the way just before a fireball exploded on the ground where they had been standing.

As Aerrow raised his head, he got his first glimpse of the attacker. A huge, grotesque creature of menacing size burst into view over the rocks, scuttling on six delicate legs. But it wasn't the creature's legs that Aerrow saw first; it was its _pitchers_. They were huge, about as long as he was tall, longer if the appendage was included! They looked strong enough to crush any of them like an aluminum can.

The beast itself was low to the ground, its head relatively small and its beady eyes glowing red. Glowing yellowish veins ran across its exoskeleton like lava. Curled above the monster's back was a glowing stinger . . . the source of the fireball.

Piper looked up, and Aerrow heard her gasp. "_Fire scorpion!_"

With a hiss, the scorpion approached them. Its claws clicked like the chains that Aerrow, Radarr, and Finn had worn in the prison. It sent a shiver up Aerrow's spine and frightened him more than even the hungry look in the scorpion's eyes.

The scorpion headed for Finn, reeling back its tail as if planning to fire. "Hey!" Finn called as he jumped out of the way. He scrambled behind a boulder before he continued. "What's the big deal? Why is everything after _me?_"

Aerrow acted as fast as possible. On his feet now, he tried to divert the scorpion's attention to him. "Hey, ugly, over here!" he cried.

Hissing again in aggravation, the fire scorpion spun around and eyed Aerrow with a devilish look. The look of the beast was that which knew fear even in the face of hunger, and it seemed wary of so bold a prey.

But the fire scorpion was lucky in this, for it didn't have to approach its prey to attack. Reeling back its tail, it fired another fireball. Aerrow barely leapt out of the way in time, only to have to avoid a second one. On the third avoidance, he lost his footing and tumbled head over heels.

The fire scorpion gained confidence from seeing him fall. It began to advance toward Aerrow now, and Aerrow knew he had little chance of getting out of the way in time. He was in the midst of pushing himself off the ground when he heard an angry cry . . . this one human.

Piper had leapt in front of the monster and had whacked it with something; to Aerrow it looked to be a book. Shocked, the fire scorpion backed away, shaking its head, but Piper didn't give it time to recover. She stamped down one of its many feet.

The fire scorpion hissed aloud, bewildered by the attack. But the confusion soon turned into rage. "Piper, watch out!" Aerrow cried as the beast's pitcher swung for her.

Piper somersaulted out of the way, and not a moment too soon. The scorpion's sweeping claw would certainly have caught her on the head.

Breathing heavily, Piper stopped. Aerrow could tell from her awkward landing that she hadn't actually _meant_ to somersault.

Trying to keep the scorpion from going for Piper again, Finn fired his slingshot. The rock hit the scorpion right on the head.

This managed to confuse the fire scorpion further, but it also made it angrier than ever. In a fit of rage, it fired again. But this time, it didn't aim for the kids; it aimed for the boulders.

The very rocks that had been their refuge now became almost death sentences. As soon as the fireballs would strike a boulder, the boulder exploded violently. Aerrow only had time to see one explosion before another knocked him forward again. Somewhere along the way he got tangled up with Piper. He heard Finn's scream, but Finn had been nowhere near him during the firing.

When Aerrow opened his eyes, he was covered in pebbles and dust. Someone's leg was on top of his, and he turned to see Piper lifting her head, looking dizzy. Then she looked up and gasped. Not wanting to see what she saw, Aerrow looked up with her.

The fire scorpion towered above them and was so close that Aerrow and Piper could see its spider-like jaws. Its glowing beady eyes bore into them as it dipped its claw toward them. And there was nothing they could do.

But then there was a streak of blue, a whirl of fur, and the scorpion reeled back its head and hissed in agony as a little mammal grabbed hold of its claw. Aerrow gasped. "Radarr!"

The scorpion shook its pitcher in desperation, flinging Radarr around like a rag doll. But Radarr wasn't done yet. With a savage hiss similar to the scorpion's, Radarr leapt from the pitcher to the scorpion's face and began poking at its eyes. The fire scorpion's hissing grew into a savage roar, and it almost fell backward in an attempt to dislodge its attacker.

Aerrow watched helplessly as Radarr was flung through the air to the far end of the clearing and fell past a boulder there. Aerrow knew what was past that boulder: a spit of land where magma beasts rested and a lava pool just beyond. Beyond that boulder lay death in one form or another.

The scorpion ran toward that end, and at first Aerrow thought it was going to finish Radarr. But the fire scorpion had reached its limit of tolerance. Claws raised up in defeat, it used the lane of ground behind the boulder as an escape route, apparently willing to brave the magma beasts rather than take on this strange, painful prey again.

Aerrow was still on the ground we're he'd fallen, his breath coming in gasps. "No . . ." Quickly he scrambled to his feet and was running.

"Aerrow!" Piper had grabbed his arms and was holding him back. "Aerrow, you can't. There's nothing you can—"

"Let go of me!" Aerrow shouted. Piper gasped as Aerrow shoved her to the ground.

He was off running again, scrambling up onto the boulder. But he didn't see Radarr past it. He only saw the bare ground which the scorpion was using to retreat and the lava pool below. No . . . the lava . . .

"Radarr!" Aerrow shouted. He waited. Nothing. "Radarr! Radarr, answer me!" He didn't even realize he was starting to tremble. "Radarr? Radarr!"

"Aerrow!" It was Finn this time. "Aerrow, it's no use!"

Aerrow spun around. Before him were Finn, who looked sadder than Aerrow had ever seen him, and Piper, with tears spilling down her face silently. Although it was unfair, Aerrow was overcome with anger toward them. Why did they stand there doing _nothing?_ Radarr was out there somewhere, and they were just going to give up on him!

Aerrow scrambled down the rock. "Come on!" he yelled. "We have to look for him!" He started heading around the boulder. Finn and Piper didn't follow.

Aerrow stopped and glared back at them. "Come on!"

But Piper just bit her lip and shook her head. "Aerrow . . . I'm so sorry . . ."

"I don't believe it!" Aerrow growled. "He saved our lives! And you're just gonna give up on him?"

Finn and Piper exchanged glances. Aerrow hated it. It was as if they were two adults sharing knowing glances over a child's worries.

With one last scowl, Aerrow turned and stomped away. If they weren't helping him, he was going to look for Radarr himself.

He went around the boulder. He didn't care about whether the scorpion came back or if a magma beast came out of the lava pool. If it did, then oh well.

Neither predator showed itself, but as Aerrow looked around, he saw no sign of Radarr. He called his friend's name into the emptiness, but all he got was a mouthful of poisonous gas that made him cough. For over half an hour he paced the area, calling Radarr's name until he was hoarse. His heart ached every time he was answered with only silence.

Finally he could take it no longer. His throat was dry, he was trembling, and his knees threatened to buckle. With the last of his strength, he staggered over to the boulder and sat down next to it. He was still in a vulnerable spot, more so now that he was sitting down, but it didn't matter to him.

He sat there, dazed, his eyes staring at the gleaming red lava before him that was so bright it made his eyes water. He didn't even notice when Finn and Piper sat down on either side of him and Piper pulled him into an embrace. He certainly wasn't aware of the tears falling down his cheeks. And he could hardly remember afterward how Piper and Finn had dragged him away from that spot just as a magma beast had lifted its head from the pool.

* * *

Author's Notes: Dang . . . that's intense. And so sad! But being as this is an origin story, we all know Radarr comes back safe and sound. But still . . . poor Aerrow. I'm really hard on him in this one.

Okay, everyone, I picked a great place to throw this on you, but . . . tomorrow I will be leaving the U.S. to go on a trip to Italy and Greece. I will be doing nonstop travel and will have no Internet access. Which means no updates for about ten days. Sorry, guys. Take care!


	18. Chapter 17: Bonds So Strong

Author's Notes: I'm _ba-ack!_ And just so you know, the trip was _AWESOME!_ Got to love the shopping in Greece! Did you know that there's no set prices in an Italian or Greek market place? I was haggling so much by the end of the trip that I got to buy something for 10 euros less than its listed price! (It was a Pegasus figurine. After that _great_ deal I got on its price, airport officials managed to break it on my flight back. Humph! Evil men! Time for some super glue . . . Oh, relax, I only plan on using it on the figurine. Maybe.)

Don't have the energy to hurt anyone, anyway. I've gone back in time _10 hours_ thanks to the time change. I've now been awake for over 22 hours. Am I a little loopy right now? Probably. I don't suppose stars are supposed to dance in front of your eyes constantly?

And now, to continue on with the long-awaited next chapter!

* * *

Chapter 17: Bonds So Strong

_Gone - flitted away,/Taken the stars from the night and the sun/From the day!/Gone, and a cloud in my heart._

~Alfred Tennyson

The group had traveled on. Now that Aerrow had accepted what had happened, he set a quick pace, trying to leave that terrible place as far behind as possible. Neither Finn nor Piper said anything but simply tried to keep up.

When they stopped, Aerrow still hadn't spoken. He sat down far away from either of them. His face was set like a stone, and he did not looked around but simply stared at the glowing lava in front of them as if that was all he could see.

Piper and Finn looked on, but both were at a loss of what to do. "I've never seen them apart," Finn muttered.

"What?" Piper asked.

"Aerrow and Radarr," Finn answered. "They're hardly ever apart for more than minutes." Exhausted, he sighed and sat down, not knowing what else to do.

Piper looked over at Aerrow, and she remembered what he had told her—had it only been last night?—about what Radarr had done for him. Her heart ached at the thought of never seeing Radarr again . . . and for Aerrow, for having lost him.

But regardless of their loss, they had to travel on. Surely Aerrow knew that.

Piper approached Aerrow. "We should keep going," she said, getting straight to the point.

Aerrow turned to meet her eyes, and Piper hated what she saw; there was something cold and distant about his eyes now, something lost and sad. "Going?" he grunted. "Going to what? There's nothing to 'go' to."

Piper blinked a moment, astonished. "We still have to find a way out," she reminded him.

Aerrow rose angrily. "There is no way out! Don't you get it, Piper? This is it! What's the point? We can never get out of here, and we'll just waste away . . ." His words trailed off, and he deflated, as if his words of truth and sorrow had sapped all his strength.

Piper had recoiled at first; Aerrow had never spoken to her like that. She was completely bewildered. This was not the Aerrow she knew, not the person who had won her friendship through this rough week, not the person she'd given a friendship bracelet to. This was someone who had lost all hope.

Not knowing what else to do, Piper reminded him of the one thing she had held on to. "We all stand a chance, if we stick together," Piper said gently. "You taught me that."

Aerrow shook his head and sat back down, holding his legs to his chest. It made him look like a poor, defenseless child. "Guess I was wrong. Time to grow up."

"I think you were right," Piper stated, sitting down next to him.

Aerrow didn't turn to her but continued to stare out at the light of the lava. "How can you have so much hope?"

"_You_, Aerrow," she answered. "You're one of the most hopeful people I know. Even after everything . . . you still tried."

"Guess I finally got some sense into me," Aerrow answered bitterly.

Piper shook her head. "No, you're not making any sense at all right now." When she saw she wasn't getting a response from him, she turned desperate. "Don't give up now, Aerrow. Please! We need you!"

Aerrow kept his eyes on the lava, unwilling to answer.

"Do you think Radarr would want you to give up?"

Aerrow dropped his gaze to the ground but said nothing.

"He loved you, Aerrow. He did what he did to protect us, to protect _you_. Is giving up any way to repay him?" She touched his arm. "We'll find way. Just like you always said."

Aerrow still didn't give her a response, so Piper waited. At last he said, "I can't believe he's really gone."

Piper put her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder, wishing there was something more she could do.

Finn watched all this, but he felt he could do nothing. Aerrow had been his playmate and his leader, but Finn had always left all the serious stuff to him and Piper. He watched them at night talk about things he didn't understand nor pretend to. And to be honest, he thought Piper's talk was kind of complicated. Aerrow's wisdom he found easier to understand but still a little too like . . . well, wise talk.

But he knew Aerrow had been right, many a time. And one thing he had been right was that they were all important. It was about time that he, Finn, did something other than just follow.

If neither Aerrow nor Piper would lead today, then he would. Though he was wearier than either of them, he got to his feet. Looking around, he saw Aerrow's bag, with the one suit left, and Piper's pack. He grabbed both. "Come on!" he called.

Both Aerrow and Piper looked up at him in surprise.

"We have a terra to find, don't we?" he said.

At first, neither answered, and Finn feared for a moment that they wouldn't continue like he hoped. Seeing that they wouldn't, Finn turned and started walking without them.

Finally Aerrow got to his feet, Piper beside him, and they followed.

* * *

Radarr had only just opened his eyes. At first the world spun. With a churr, he put his paw to his head to try to calm it. When finally he could see straight, he stood up on shaky legs and looked around. He found himself in a small ditch with a rock above that formed almost a complete roof. Radarr was pretty sure that the rock was where the bump on his head had come from. Luckily the rocks he lay on were smooth and round, not rough and jagged.

Still trying to gather his bearings, he peered up at where the light came, a small opening between the rock and the pit he found himself in. He must have rolled under the rock into this ditch; that was the only explanation for his being here. But this was solid rock, formed by lava. Why would there be a ditch under a rock . . . ?

But when Radarr saw, he froze. He looked down at the "rocks" he was standing on. They were not rocks at all, but large, brown eggs, each as big as he was! This was no ditch! This was a _nest!_

Screeching in terror, Radarr scampered to the back of the nest, looking around. If these were eggs, than they were of some terrible creature!

Slowly but surely he forced his heart rate to slow. These were only eggs, he assured himself. They wouldn't hurt him. And likely their mama was reptilian, which meant she probably didn't do much for caretaking. Would she? He pricked his ears and stood still for the longest time, but no suspicious sound came to his ears. He could hear only the hissing and gurgling from the lava outside as it bubbled up from the mantel and flowed along its course.

Radar relaxed and was soon laughing at himself. How could he be so dumb, as to suppose that just a bunch of eggs were harmful to him! An egg could do nothing.

No sooner did he think that when he heard a crack. His ears shot up, and he froze. _Uh oh._

There was a large crack going down one of the eggs. It was getting longer, growing. Then out came a hiss.

_Oh, gunk,_ Radarr cursed to himself.

He found himself pressed against the side of the nest, his heart beating a mile minute, as a baby magma beast's head raised itself up out of the broken shell and fixed its glowing, beady eyes at him.

For the longest time, the two just stared at each other. Then there was more cracking.

Okay, Radarr thought. This is _really_ not good!

Then, just when Radarr was beginning to think the hatchling wouldn't do anything, it struck.

Its head snaked out toward him so quick that Radarr barely had time to dodge. He leapt found himself landing right on top of another hatched baby!

This hatchling turned its head around to look at him. Then, with another angry cry, it struck, too.

Screeching in fright, Radarr leapt onto another egg, which was already starting to hatch. He squealed in alarm when another set of jaws snapped at him from right in between his legs!

Another one struck at him but missed, sending Radarr tumbling head over heels into the corner. There were angry hisses and shrill, scream-like sounds that he couldn't identify, but he knew only one of them was his.

When he recovered, he looked up to see two of the hatchlings fighting. Over _him!_

Quickly he looked up and pricked his ears toward the exit. It was blocked by six baby magma beasts!

But seeing the two fighting over him had given him an idea.

Getting into a crouch, he growled and hissed, drawing the attention of the nearest one. With the hunger of a newborn urging it on, the baby growled and lurched at him. Radarr leapt out of the way only to land in front of another baby. He tickled it, trying to entice it. The bribe worked like magic, and just as the first one was doubling back, this second one was striking. The two collided head-on and were soon in a scuffle.

Radarr headed for another one. This one came at him and chased him right until Radarr leapt into the middle of the thick of the fighting between the first two. Then the third one was swept up into it, growling and hissing as it tumbled head-over-tail with its siblings. They rolled as a ball into another one, which was soon in the scuffle as well.

Just when Radarr was feeling proud of himself, he heard another hiss, and this one came from behind him.

Whirling around, Radarr saw he'd neglected the sixth one. It was the smallest of them, waiting its turn patiently to get its chance to attack while its bigger siblings got the chance first. That still made it about as large as Radarr was.

Radarr squealed as the magma beast struck out at him.

The scuffle with the others was far too dangerous now to risk losing his pursuer in there. Instead, Radarr made a run for the exit.

When Radarr shot out of the hole, the hatchling was close behind.

Thinking quickly, Radarr skidded to stop and spun on his haunches like a cutting horse. Still on his haunches as he met the beast face-to-face, he used his momentum as he pushed himself off and leapt right over the magma beast onto the boulder.

Letting out a dry sound, a sound that would grow into a roar in time, the baby beast started to slither up the rock after him.

Frantically Radarr looked for some place to go. Then he saw his chance: a rock about the size of his own head. Heaving it up in his front paws, he turned around and smirked at the snake-like creature. _Eat this!_ he thought as he dropped the rock.

The hatchling's eyes widened with surprise. When the rock struck it, stars danced around its head and its tongue hung out of its mouth. Eyes rolling, it fell over backward onto the ground.

Laughing with delight, Radarr stuck his tongue out at the magma beast. Turning around, he leapt down off the rock on the opposite side and landed lightly on the ground on all fours, all in stride for a dead gallop.

After he'd run a few strides, though, he stopped and stood up on his hind legs, turning his head from side to side and flicking his ears. Where was Aerrow? And Piper and Finn? And where the heck was _he_?

Well, this was a dilemma if Radarr ever had one. In fact, he felt a little panicked at not knowing where Aerrow was. He always knew where Aerrow was.

He told himself to calm down. After all, Aerrow had to be nearby. He was always nearby. Unless . . . what if the scorpion got him? It had been about to finish him when Radarr intervened. Piper, too. What if . . . ?

Radarr had to swallow a screech as he was suddenly in motion again. Frantically he searched back and forth, over boulders and under, his nose to the ground, his eyes looking upward, and his ears twirling in all directions, trying to find some sign of his friends. They had to be here somewhere! They had to!

Suddenly he froze. He sniffed the ground again, not willing to believe his nose. But there was the scent! He'd found Aerrow's scent!

Delighted, he tried to figure out which way it went. It was rather confusing. It didn't just go in one direction but in all directions! It was as if Aerrow had been wandering around as frantically as Radarr had just been. Oh, how the heck was Radarr supposed to figure out where he went?

Sniffing around, Radarr went randomly along, so long as Aerrow's scent was there. Every now and then he looked up to see if he recognized anything.

He was finally led up to a boulder when he got more scents. Piper and Finn were here, too! But he also smelled fire scorpion . . . That didn't mean it got them, did it?

But Radarr found no smell of blood, only the smell of sweat, and when he peered around the rock, he saw it was the same battle ground where they had met the scorpion. It was vacant of anyone or anything but boulders; even the packs weren't there. Even better, Piper's and Finn's paths continued straight on, and Aerrow's scent went with them.

Radarr whimpered quietly. He believed now his friends were alright, but would they really . . . _leave_ him?

But of course not, Radarr thought. They had to have had a good reason for leaving. Perhaps the scorpion chased them. Or maybe they thought . . . but no. Aerrow would never give up on him. They must have been chased off. Yes, that was it. They were probably on their way back to look for him now. He would see them within the hour.

Content with his explanation, Radarr traveled along their trail at a steady trot.

* * *

Lance and his group had stopped once again at another campsite. Some of the Talons were grumbling. They had thought that the search would be done by now; surely if they haven't found the kids yet, they were dead.

But Lance had found another can. And in it, the food was cold but still moist. "They definitely went this way," he said. "And less than a day ago."

"Does that mean we'll find them soon?" Gos asked irritably.

"Can't say for sure," Lance answered honestly, "but it _does_ mean we're catching up."

One of the Talons raised his head sharply. "That's good to know. For awhile there, I thought you didn't _want_ to catch them."

Irritated by the insult, Lance turned to him, brow furrowed. "And what gave you that idea? Of course I want to catch them! That was my assignment!"

"I saw your face," the Talon jeered, "when I told you that boy of yours was going to be used as an example."

Lance just glared at the Talon, trying to think of the right words to say. "I don't care," he said at last. "And even if I did, that boy's fate would be no better in that than it would be if he was left out here. Perhaps better."

"So you _do_ care."

"I just told you I didn't!" Lance stared the man down. "Don't think I won't charge you for defying an officer."

Unfortunately, the Talon didn't look frightened by the comment; he looked amused.

Gos stood up and intervened. "Hey," he said, "when the lieutenant says something, he means it."

Reluctantly the Talon gave up the argument and turned away.

Quietly, Gos grabbed Lance's arm. "Can I talk to you a moment?"

Lance nodded and followed Gos out.

Gos stopped and turned to him once they were a good distance away from the others. "You know I'm with ya, no matter what," Gos said, "but remember all that babying stuff you did with the boy and that . . . thing when we found them? Well, if we find them again, don't do that." He pointed back to the ring of exhausted, discontented prison Talons. "It'll be the end of ya."

Lance nodded. "Don't worry," he assured Gos. "They won't be too much a problem. And the boy will get no visible sympathy from me, so long as those men don't rough him up."

"That's just what I mean!" Gos exploded. "Lance, who _cares?_ The kid's got doom written all over him, and we've known it since we caught him the first time!" He stopped again. "You can always give up the search."

"And just leave them out there."

"Lance, are they really worth the trouble? It's not like you'll really be saving them, anyway. Face it; they're better off dead."

"We're _not_ calling off the search."

Gos nodded, and the two stood there, not knowing what to say to one another. Gos kept his eyes on the ground until at last he turned to head back to the other Talons. Only two steps into it, though, he turned back around and said, "I'm with ya, Lance. I've always been. But you just watch yourself with this one, okay? They may be young, but they're enemies of Cyclonia. That's all you need to keep in your head."

Lanced nodded. "I know, Gos."

Gos looked over his shoulder with a light smirk, his eyes meeting Lance's. "Long live Cyclonia?"

"Long live Cyclonia."

* * *

For Radarr, things weren't quite so happy. Boy, was he hungry! He felt so weak and weary that his trot had slowed long ago to a walk; he ambled along with his head and tail drooping, always with his nose to the ground. He still had the kids' scents, which means he was on the right path. However they had covered this ground, they had done it quickly.

To Radarr, it made no sense. The scorpion scent had diverged long ago, so they had no reason to rush on. Surely they were looking for him, weren't they? Then why, oh, why were they going so fast? They had set a hard pace to have traveled this much ground while still getting further away from him. It seemed with every few steps that the scent got staler. But why would they travel at such a rough pace without stopping to look, stopping to wait?

It was finally too much for Radarr to go on. He found a rock to sleep by that provided some meager protection. Soon he was asleep.

When he awoke again, he was once again off. He shouldn't have been surprise that the scent was even staler, but all the same, it did not lead him off to a good start.

The farther he went along, it seemed the faster the pace was. Surely they would have slowed down by down. Wouldn't they have gotten tired? Didn't they stop to eat?

But the most heartbreaking thing of all was that Aerrow's scent was the faintest and went off in a straight line.

He was the one setting this furious pace they had held. He was the one out in front, not letting them stop.

Weren't they looking for him?

After a long while, the sad truth hit Radarr; they weren't looking for him. They weren't even trying. They had left him behind.

But _why?_

They must have a reason, Radarr thought. They would never do that to him. But, when forced to dwell on it, Radarr realized he didn't really rely on Finn, even though he trusted him. And how long had he known Piper? A week? Not enough to know whether she could really abandon someone.

But they weren't the ones in front. Aerrow was. And Aerrow wouldn't do this to him. Aerrow _loved_ him . . . didn't he?

But then he smelled something that made him freeze. It was the scent of one of the giant bats.

Frantically he looked around, keeping low to the ground. Then he saw it; up on one of the rocks, a nest was set, where three baby bats were waiting for their mother to return. They were so young that Radarr could see they were only about as small as his head.

As Radarr walked up to them, he peered down at them with interest. They bleated pathetically, sounding nothing like the beasts they would grow up to be. Grey and hairless, they were ugly and cute all at the same time. They seemed so helpless, so fragile. It was hard to believe that a monster such as these had almost killed Finn and Aerrow.

But as Radarr gazed at them, he had a thought; here was food! After all, he ate meat. He was more than willing to have some chicken or skoat. As far as he knew, there was meat in half the soup Piper had fed them, and Old Timer used to cook some good meals with animal entrées. Now was his chance to feed himself.

But when he blinked and looked at the pups again, he felt ashamed. He could eat a chicken no problem, but he could never got _kill_ a chicken to eat. In fact, he kind of liked chickens. Not that he liked the bats, but it was the same principle. Besides, these were only pups. And unlike the last babies he encountered, these weren't trying to eat him. They had done absolutely _nothing_ to deserve getting killed.

Radarr gently rested his head against the rock, gazing at them. They didn't even acknowledge him but continued to whimper. Gosh, they were still so young that they appeared to be blind! Why wasn't their mother there?

He didn't know how long he stayed with them, but it was long enough for him to realize their mother should have been back by now. Were they orphans now, like him? Like Aerrow?

Radarr whimpered at the thought of Aerrow. It still hurt, to think that his boy had left him behind. He must have had a good reason. But try as he might, Radarr couldn't think of one.

He remembered when Aerrow had first come to him. The boy had won Radarr's trust with much patience and then had taken him in, despite the fact that he could hardly take care of himself.

Yet to stay or to go was a hard decision. Radarr had rarely ever made such decisions without Aerrow. But Aerrow wasn't here. And if he left, he would be with Aerrow sooner. But the poor pups . . .

Knowing he might regret it, Radarr climbed into the nest with the pups and curled himself around him. They snuggled against him, looking to play, but Radarr just nudged them away when they pulled at him, wishing there was more he could do.

* * *

Author's Notes: Aw, how cute! I always thought that scene in my head was a touching one!

I'm going to bed now because I just blanked out and saw a flying purple cow kissing Pegasus, and I really don't think that's normal . . .


	19. Chapter 18: A Helping Hand

Chapter 18: A Helping Hand

_We can't help everyone, but everyone can help someone._

~Ronald Reagan

It seemed to Aerrow like they walked for days. Each step further away from Radarr was like a mile. Even scarier, Piper had checked their food supply and realized that unless they practically starved themselves, they wouldn't have enough for many more days.

And yet Piper's watch said they had only lost Radarr less than twenty-four hours ago.

They had slept since then and had woken up and continued in the morning. Piper navigated, which normally left her leading the way. Finn trudged on with a determination neither Aerrow nor Piper had seen in him before. But Aerrow trailed behind, his feet dragging and his eyes hollow as if the life had been sucked out of him. It made him look weak and frail, something neither Piper nor Finn had thought they would ever see in him. Aerrow had always been so strong before.

In order to keep the food supplies, they had agreed on only one meal a day, and a meal for them normally consisted of only one serving. Aerrow felt as if his stomach was trying to eat itself, what with all its aching as if it were gnawing. No wonder they call it "gnawing hunger."

Then, as if things couldn't get any worse, the trio heard a familiar roar.

They all froze. Finn started to tremble. "Not _that_ again!" he gasped.

Aerrow tried to pinpoint the sound. Their view of the creature was blocked by small volcanoes that had little streams of lava flowing down them. Somewhere on the other side, Aerrow knew, was another one of those giant bats. The idea made the healing cut on his head tingle with the memory of their last encounter.

Finn apparently remembered it all too well. He seemed absolutely terrified. "What'll we do, dude?" he asked the other two frantically. "It sounds upset!"

As Aerrow listened, he realized Finn was right. In fact, it didn't even sound angry; it sounded distraught.

Piper was studying and listening, but she had more practical reasons in mind for her observations. "As soon as he walked past those volcanoes," she said, "it'll see us for sure. We should probably go check it out. It's the only way to find a way past it unnoticed."

"How exactly are we supposed to 'check it out,'" Finn asked. "If we peer around those volcanoes, it could see us!"

"I'll go," Aerrow immediately volunteered.

Piper looked up at him, and she seemed to be remembering their conversation not to long ago about his willingness to risk his life. She looked scared.

"Someone's got to do it," Aerrow pointed out. Surely she realized it was only practical. Besides, it's not like she could stop him, anyway.

Piper nodded. "Be careful," she said. The look in her eyes also spoke more: _Remember want I said._

_I'm not forgetting,_ Aerrow thought, giving a quick glance down at his bracelet. He had every intention of getting out of this situation alive.

He slowly approached the volcanoes and then began his way around them, trying to keep as close to them as possible without hurting himself. Once he was in position to peer around them, he stopped, hoping he couldn't be seen.

What he saw made him scared . . . but not for himself or his friends.

"Guys!" he called to others. "Get over here!"

Worried something was wrong, Finn and Piper scrambled over to him. Finn was in such a hurry that he left their bags, making Piper double back to grab them.

Once they were beside Aerrow, he pointed. "_Look!_"

It was one of the large bats, just like they all knew it was. But the bat was in no position to be terrifying. The poor creature was trapped. Its wing had been caught under a boulder that appeared to have rolled after a small volcanic eruption. The bat fought against the rock, flapping its other wing frantically and kicked at the boulder, but it could not put itself in a position to push the rock with all its strength without hurting its wing.

Aerrow looked on with sympathy. "It's trapped."

"Yeah," Finn said. "Good. Better than it trying to eat us."

But even so, all of them seemed frozen by the sight of the suffering beast. At last, Piper said, "I wish we could do something."

"Yeah," Finn agreed. "Without it eating us."

Aerrow raised an eyebrow at him. "What is with you and—"

"Hey!" Finn reminded him. "I'm the one who almost gotten eaten last time!"

"No, I was! You just got attacked first!"

"What difference does it make now?" Piper asked irritably. "This isn't the same one." But just because she could, turned to Finn and said, "And from what I saw, Aerrow's right, anyway."

Finn glared at her.

At that moment, the bat let out another piercing scream. Then it sagged against the boulder and lowered its head, looking defeated. It was so pitiful that Aerrow couldn't help himself. He knew what it was like to be trapped with nothing to hope for. "We've got to help somehow," he said aloud.

"Don't be stupid," Piper scolded. "There's nothing we _can_ do."

"We could get the boulder off his wing."

"No, Aerrow! You don't think he'll be grateful, do you? As soon as he's free, he'll kill us!"

"Then you guys stay here, and I'll do it myself."

"No, Aerrow!" Piper tried to grab his arm, but he was already heading out into the clearing.

"Dude," Finn called after him. "You're crazy! Get back here!"

Piper let out a sigh of exasperation and worry.

Finn raised an eyebrow. "He's not thinking very clearly today, is he?"

"When is he ever?" Piper grumbled. She followed after him. "Aerrow, stay away from that thing!"

But Aerrow was already approaching the bat. The bat raised its head as it saw Aerrow coming and Piper coming up behind him. Finn was still at the rock.

At the sight of the strangers, the old fire came back into the bat's eyes. Aerrow was glad to see it, for he knew now that the animal had not given up.

With a savage snap, the bat growled and warned Aerrow away. Aerrow stayed out of the bat's reach. He was tempted to try to calm the animal with his voice, but he remembered when he first tried to win Radarr's trust. Wild animals did not trust a human voice. So he stayed silent and waited patiently for the bat to quit snapping at him. All the while, he ignored Piper's pleas for him to get away.

At last, the bat gave up on scaring him away and instead glared at him with its beady, glowing red eyes. There was mistrust so strong in them that Aerrow doubted that even ten years of human kindness could tame this animal, but at least it had accepted his presence for the time being. At this point, Aerrow was close enough to see that his earlier pronouns for the animal had been incorrect. It wasn't a he. It was a she.

Aerrow stayed steady. He did not speak, only silently approaching the animal shyly, trying to show how unthreatening he was. He knew it probably made him look like prey, but the bat wasn't hunting; she was feeling frightened. And his way worked. The bat let him get very close without trying to strike out.

Then, just when he was within easy reach, he darted forward, knowing this was his chance.

The bat let out another scream, this one of pure fright, as Aerrow ran forward and thrust his shoulder into the boulder.

Oh, boy, it hurt! It was like throwing himself against a wall! But even as he did, he felt the boulder move.

The bat felt it, too. She seemed to realize she was inches away from freedom. She started to flap her other wing furiously and clawed the ground, trying to get away, not even bothering to attack Aerrow.

Aerrow kept pushing. But try as he might, the boulder simply wouldn't move. He was using so much effort that he had his eyes closed, praying for all he was worth that the bat would not attack him now.

But then Aerrow heard another grunt beside him and felt the boulder inch forward. Someone else had thrown their weight against. Aerrow opened his eyes to see Piper straining beside him.

But it was not enough. The bat was still stuck, and her struggling was getting more frantic. Aerrow was afraid she would hurt herself.

But then something else slammed into Aerrow. The boulder moved the last few inches just as Finn fell on top of Aerrow. And in that instant, the bat was free.

With a cry of complete triumph, the bat rose straight up in the air, stroking with all her might as if she still felt she had to escape. When she came down again, she landed on her feet and looked down at the children in front of her.

Piper was leaning against the rock and looking terrified. Aerrow and Finn were in a heap at her feet. Aerrow sat there with sweat pouring down his face, hoping that his actions had not cost his friends their lives.

The bat lowered her head and looked at them. Her red eye came level with Aerrow's and looked straight into his. There was a hungry look about her. "We saved you . . ." Aerrow whispered helplessly. But of course, what good would it do to speak words she did not understand? How could she possibly comprehend that they had saved her?

The bat continued to stare at him for some time, and no one dare move. Then at last, the bat raised her head, let out a huff-like snort, and flew off. She had all the opportunity in the world to grab them. But she hadn't.

Finn stood up and dusted himself off. "Dude," he said, glaring at Aerrow as he, too, got to his feet, "don't _ever_ make me do that again."

Well, nice to know how Finn felt about that. "I'm sorry you had to," he said, "but I'm not sorry I did it."

When he didn't hear Piper voicing her opinion, he turned to her expectantly. After all, Piper always had an opinion.

Piper gave him a hard look, devoid of any emotion. At last she said, "That was reckless." He face softened. "But I can't say I'm not glad."

"She looked happy, didn't she?" Aerrow agreed.

"_She?_" Finn growled in disbelief.

"What?" Aerrow asked. "It was a she!"

"Nice to know you're so well acquainted," Finn grumbled.

Aerrow looked around. "We should probably keep going," he said. Piper nodded in agreement and went over to grab their bags.

Finn watched them as they started to walk away. "Wait," he said. "That's it? We're not going to talk about this anymore?"

"What's done is done, Finn," Piper said. "And we're all alright."

"But . . ." He trailed off when he saw that Aerrow and Piper kept walking away, not even listening to him. "Fine, fine," he grumbled.

Piper didn't bother waiting for him but kept pace with Aerrow. She was glad at last to see Aerrow setting their pace once more.

* * *

Radarr didn't know how long he was with the little bats. It could have been minutes or hours. He had been lost in thought the entire time, wondering if—just maybe—the kids had left him behind. Oh, but they couldn't have!

He was broken from his sober thoughts by the sound of a loud, hiss-like roar.

Radarr's head shot up. Mama was _back!_

Uh oh.

The mother bat was circling overhead, her screeches growing louder and louder. Radarr couldn't tell whether she was greeting her little ones or had discovered him and was screaming a warning for him to leave at once. He flattened himself against the floor of the nest, knowing there was nothing he could do now.

He was not having a whole lot of luck with baby animals today.

The mother landed and placed her feet on the edge of the rock, peering down at her little ones. In her beak, she held a baby magma beast.

At first, Radarr wondered if it couldn't be one of the same hatchlings he had met earlier. But this hatchling looked a little bigger, perhaps a little older, than the newly-hatched brood he'd stumbled upon.

The mother bat fed the majority of the dead magma beast to its little ones, who fought for it among themselves. When she turned to the side, Radarr saw a small piece of her portside wing was missing.

Then the mother swung her head toward Radarr, glaring at him.

Oh no. This was it, Radarr thought. He was done for!

The mother bat moved her head ever closer to him, her eyes glowing with mistrust. Radarr backed as far into the corner as possible, whimpering. Then at last, when he thought he was finished, the bat sniffed him.

That was all she did. Yet it seemed to change her entire expression. The hated look in her eyes faded to one of recognition. She shoved her head even closer, making Radarr hunker down as flat as he could, closing his eyes, hoping it would be over soon. He felt her breath on him, could feel the heat of her body . . . but then it was gone. Confused, Radarr opened his eyes and raised his head.

The bat crooned at him softly and held out the tail of the magma beast for him to eat.

What? The bat was offering him food? Why? Why the _heck_ was she not making _him_ food?

Not that Radarr was complaining. It was a frightening but also reassuring change in her demeanor.

Radarr didn't want to take the tail at first. He'd rarely ever eaten raw meat; if fact, if he ever had, it was before he met Aerrow, and he could barley remember his wild life, much less what he ate. But here was meat. And he was hungry; _boy_, was he hungry!

And of course, there was always the fear that he might offend the bat if he didn't take her gift.

Gingerly he took the meat from her. She seemed satisfied and stood back to watch him eat.

Attentively he bit into it, wincing as he did. It was absolutely disgusting! Ugh! And wild animals actually _ate_ this stuff?

But then seeing the hurt look on the bats face when he jumped back from it, Radarr crawled toward the tail again. It _did_ feel good to have something in his stomach, and it rumbled for more. So maybe, if he was quick about it . . .

When he approached the meat again, he gulped it down in one swallow.

The bat seemed happy with that. Radarr smiled at her as best he could, feeling sort of sick to his stomach.

But then the bat jumped up, swooped him, and grabbed him with her talon!

Radarr struggled against her! Wait a minute! Didn't she just feed him? What the heck was she doing now? She didn't just feed him and then decide she was going to eat him, did she? Oh, this was so messed up!

But the bat didn't eat him. Instead, it seemed to be kidnapping, flying him off to who knows where. Radarr whimpered as he watched the nest getting smaller as they drew away. All this because he had wanted to do a good deed for the pups. Now, thanks to this bat, he'd never find Aerrow and the others!

* * *

Aerrow, Piper, and Finn stopped to rest again. "Man, I'm beat!" Finn said once they stopped.

Aerrow looked over at Piper for a silent signal. Piper nodded.

Aerrow started unpacking. "We'll camp here, then," he said.

Once the bedrolls were out, Aerrow headed off away from the others, if only to sit and stare.

Finn looked over at Piper. There was no need to ask what was wrong: Radarr. _What should we do?_ he mouthed.

Piper shook her head. _Leave him._

Finn pointed to Aerrow, then gestured to her, asking if she was going to talk to him. She always talked to him. As far as Finn knew, the two had a . . . talking . . . geek . . . thing . . .

Piper shook her head again. She wouldn't talk to him. She was going to leave him alone, just as she said.

Finn shrugged and left it at that. He knew from seeing them together that, despite the fact that Finn had been with him longer, Piper could read Aerrow better. If she said he should be left alone, then she was probably right.

As Aerrow sat alone, he thought of the night after he had lost the terra he'd come to call his home, the attack that would eventually lead to his capture. Looking back on it, he couldn't help but smile at the silly antics that Radarr did to try to make him feel better. But in the end, what the little guy had done best was simply share his sorrow, and only that had seemed to help. They had sat together, watching the sunset.

The sunset. It had been so long since any of them had seen a sunset. For Piper, a week or so. For Finn, months. For him . . . who knew?

And Radarr. Radarr never got to see the sunset for the longest time. And now he never will.

The strangest thing for Aerrow was that he was getting used to the idea of not having Radarr around. Imagine that! Getting _used_ to it! No longer did he look down automatically to seek his companion's opinion before he made a decision. No longer did he stop and wait, almost mechanically, for little feet to follow. And it had only been a little less than two days ago!

For the first time since Radarr had left them, Aerrow felt confident that he and the rest of his friends would be okay. He only wished Radarr had made it to the end of their journey with them . . . if they ever reach that end.

But then Aerrow heard the sound, and he leapt to his feet. He knew that sound anywhere. It was a squawk, and only one animal ever made a squawk like that.

Almost stumbling over his feet in his excitement, Aerrow ran to a boulder and scrambled up to the top. Once there, he stood, looking over the Wastelands desperately. "Radarr!" he cried. "Radarr? Radarr!"

Piper and Finn both looked up at him in bewilderment and concern before exchanging glances. Had Aerrow gone mad on them? Aerrow wasn't that weak-minded, was he? They would never have guessed so until now.

Aerrow stopped shouting and stared out again. He knew what he heard. He _had_ to be there. He _had_ to be! "Radarr!"

Piper and Finn got to their feet. "_Now_ do you think we should do something?" Finn whispered to Piper.

But Piper wasn't listening. She was watching Aerrow, her heart breaking. She knew Radarr wouldn't come to his calls. For him, it would be like losing his friend all over again.

But Aerrow wasn't giving up yet. He shouted some more, then stood still, listening with all his might.

The sound didn't come again.

Finally Piper felt the need to break the silence. "He's not there, Aerrow. Please come down."

But Aerrow only glared at her before looking up to scan the Wastelands again. He wasn't crazy. He knew what he heard! "Radarr!" he cried again.

"RRRRRREEK!"

Aerrow's face lit up. The cry had come from somewhere close by, just beyond them. He narrowed his eyes, straining to spot his friend.

Shocked, Piper ran toward the boulder Aerrow was on, Finn scrambling after her. It couldn't be . . .

Before they reached the boulder, Radarr leaped out of nowhere.

Aerrow was knocked over onto his back as Radarr landed squarely on his chest. The little guy churred and squeaked in delight, wiggling as if he simply couldn't contain his joy.

Aerrow wrap his arms around him. "Radarr! Oh, thank Atmos!"

Piper and Finn climbed up next to them, cheering with delight. Piper hugged Radarr and held him close. She was so excited that when she let him go, she couldn't contain herself and threw her arms around Aerrow's neck. Finn gave Radarr a high five and a pat on the back.

When Piper finally let go of Aerrow, the boy grabbed Radarr's shoulders, gazing at him lovingly. "I thought I lost you . . ." But just as quickly as he had been to celebrate, now he looked angry. "Don't you ever put me through that again!"

Radarr huffed and raised an eyebrow at him as if to say, _Same to you!_

"Aw, who cares!" Aerrow said as he rubbed Radarr's head. "You're here! Where the heck have you _been?_"

Just then, they heard a familiar screech. And this one didn't come from Radarr.

Frightened, the three kids whirled around, scrambling to their feet, realizing there was nowhere to hide. But Radarr just smiled broadly.

Another one of those giant bats landed in front of them. At first, the kids were afraid it would attack, but slowly recognition grew on their faces when they saw the wounded left wing. "But . . . that's impossible . . ." Piper gasped.

Finn only rolled his eyes. "Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!"

"It's the one!" Aerrow said. "The one we rescued."

"She brought Radarr to us," Piper said. "But . . . Wait, there has got to be a reasonable explanation for this."

Aerrow just smirked. "Sometimes," he told Piper, "there aren't reasonable explanations."

The bat studied them with a hint of suspicion in her eyes before she dared a step closer. She reached her head out, crooning softly.

"Uh . . ." Aerrow didn't know what to do. Sure, he didn't think the bat would hurt him, but she _did_ have pretty big jaws . . .

The bat stopped advancing, her eyes shifting from all of them questionably.

"Er . . . Thank you," Aerrow said at last.

"It's a giant bat, Aerrow," Piper pointed out. "It's not going to understand."

Aerrow shrugged. "She might."

The bat kept staring at them until she seemed satisfied. Then she stepped back, hissed, and took off with one mighty stroke of her wings.

Aerrow turned back to Radarr, stroking him. "Look at that. You even made a friend."

"A friend that could have him for dinner," Finn pointed out.

Radarr glared at him for the comment.

* * *

Author's Notes: Yay, Radarr is back!

The mother bat was again a character that I had not planned to take a big role, but, well, there she is. I don't think she'll show up again, but you never know.


	20. Chapter 19: Don't Let Go

Author's Notes: Sorry, I tried to update earlier tonight, but Fanfiction wouldn't let me log in. Had the same problem last night. Wonder what's up with them.

* * *

Chapter 19: Don't Let Go

_To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there._

~Barbara Bush

With Radarr back, everything seemed back to normal . . . or at least, the way it had been all week. The biggest difference now was that their food supply was getting dangerously low.

The group sat down to make a desperate decision the evening after Radarr had come back. "We need to get out soon," Piper said.

"Then we'll start climbing," Aerrow agreed. "We'll climb as soon as we stop for water."

"Yes, and we'll have no trouble climbing up a _terra_ out of the _Wastelands_," Finn groaned. "Seriously, this is a bad idea."

"Do you have a better one?"

". . . No."

"Then we have to try."

Radarr had been lying apart from the group, his head resting on his forepaws and his ears pointed toward them intently as he waited for the verdict. Piper saw that for once, he made no attempt to convey his opinion, with Aerrow or otherwise. It seemed that ever since their separation, Aerrow and Radarr had seemed more . . . distant. Not necessarily less caring for each other but more willing and able to operate without each other. No longer were they always in agreement or constantly shadowing the other. Their love for each other couldn't have been stronger, but as individuals, they seemed to almost be drifting apart.

Just because she was curious, Piper asked, "Radarr, what do you think?"

Radarr lifted his head off his paws and blinked owlishly, as if considering their options. There was silence as they waited. Finally he inclined his head toward Finn, as if to say, _He has a point._

Aerrow huffed and turned away irritably. He still wasn't used to Radarr not being on his side in major decisions.

Finn glared at him. "What? Radarr's entitled to his opinion! It isn't always about you!"

"Hypocrite," Piper muttered about Finn. But the boys didn't hear. They were too busy arguing.

"It is not always about me!" Aerrow shot back. "I could have left you behind, you know!"

"Oh, yeah," Finn grumbled sarcastically. "And it's so much better out _here_ in the Wastelands than it was _there_!"

"Guys, enough! You can argue about this later. But anyways, Aerrow's right. We've got to get out of here soon—"

"You're always on his side!"

"We've been burning quite a few calories each day, and without anything—"

"Don't talk all smart to me, know-it-all!"

While the three argued, Radarr only watched. But then he cocked an ear to the side. Screeching fearfully, Radarr leapt to his feet and scampered over to a boulder to peer over it.

Aerrow stopped arguing as soon as he saw what his friend was up to. "Radarr? What is it?" Piper and Finn stopped, too, and looked over concerned.

Hunkering behind the boulder, Radarr motioned them closer and to stay low.

The kids did as he advised, creeping up behind him. Aerrow was the first to peer over him. Radarr pointed up to the sky, covered in volcanic clouds.

There, dark shadows appeared out of the clouds and swooped down, revealing themselves to be in a sort of X shape. As they got closer, Aerrow gasped. They were Talon Switchblades . . . with riders. "Cyclonians!" Aerrow hissed.

Finn stared at them fearfully before turning to Aerrow, eyes wide. "I thought you said they wouldn't follow us!"

"They _shouldn't _have followed us!" Aerrow agreed. "We've been gone for over a week! And what Talon would come into the Wastelands? They're cowards!"

Piper looked confused. "What are you—?"

Just then, a Talon spotted them. "They're there! I've found them! I've found them!"

Piper's explanation would have to wait. "Run!" Aerrow cried.

The kids and Radarr scrambled backward and ran, trying to find somewhere where they could evade the skimmers. But this was the Wastelands. There was nowhere to hide.

A Talon swooped over them just as Aerrow made a sharp turn around a boulder, shouting, "This way!" over his shoulder.

"Darn kid!" the Talon as he pulled up to avoid smashing his Switchblade against a volcano.

The other Talons were closing in. Though the kids and Radarr ran, all knew it was pointless to try to outrun the skyrides.

It was Piper who had the escape route this time! "Here!" she said. She led them up a rocky ledge with an overhang that would block them from view on one side.

The Talons rounded the volcano and appeared just in time to lose sight of the group.

The four of them scrambled up the slope, which Aerrow knew to be a mountain of rock too small to be called a terra or even to completely clear the cloud line. Now at last he saw what Piper was aiming for. There was a cave at the top of the overhang. In fact, the overhang, which curved over them like a frozen wave, looked like it had once been half of the tunnel; the other had been broken down by something, probably a large animal.

They call hunkered down in the cave. It was barely big enough to make a suitable hideout.

The Talons had stopped, and one of them, a man with green hair, put his hands to his mouth. "We know you're out there, Sparrow."

Aerrow's eyes widened in shock, and he exchanged bewildered glances with Radarr. It couldn't be . . . _Lance?_

"You and your friends better come out," Lance continued. "It'll be better if you do. You won't last much longer out here."

No one moved. The last thing Aerrow was doing was giving in now, after all he'd gone through to get away.

At last, they heard Lance's voice again, but this time, it was too quiet for them to make out the words. Aerrow dared to peer around the edge of the cave to see the Talons. There were six of them, including Lance. _And Gos_, Aerrow realized with surprise. Aerrow couldn't tell what the heck they were doing here, but he didn't like it.

Lance was talking to the other men and gesturing. Two men flew off one way, two men the other. Lance sent Gos with one of the venturing parties, while the lieutenant and another Talon stayed behind. They flew off rather low, letting Aerrow know that they had landed somewhere close by.

That's when he knew. Lance was having the two groups patrol the area to see if they could find the escapees. Lance and the other man left behind would make camp.

With a sigh, Aerrow settled back in the cave, resting his back against the stone. He closed his eyes in relief. That had been one close call.

And it wasn't over yet.

Finn looked at Aerrow in bewilderment. "What are they _doing_ here?" Finn said.

"Looking for us, I guess," Aerrow answered. "But how . . ." He caught his breath as the answer dawned on him. "Twister!"

"But you said they'd never follow us!" Radarr nodded in agreement with a low growl.

"I know what I said!" Aerrow retorted angrily.

"You say a lot of things." Finn got up and was pacing angrily. "And look how they work out."

"I was right!" Aerrow answered back. "They shouldn't've followed!"

"But they _did!_"

As if to prove Finn's point, Radarr pointed furiously out the cave at the Talons.

Aerrow stared at his best friend in disbelief. "You, too?"

"Guys—" Piper began tentatively.

But Finn kept going. "And what did that Talon call you? Sparrow? Don't tell me it's that Talon who caught you two in the first place!" He looked pointedly at Aerrow and Radarr.

Aerrow smirked, but it looked more sinister than friendly. "Congratulations. You've met Lance. A good guy, in an evil sort of way."

Piper held up a finger. "Um, excuse me—"

Finn, ignoring her still, crossed his arms at Aerrow. "You know, if you had just stuck it out at the prison—"

"Oh, not _that_ again!"

"We'd be fine, you know. Compared to _this!_"

Aerrow was on his feet now, too. "What are you saying? Huh?" He got up in Finn's face, his hands clenched in fists. The way he saw it, if Finn would rather be stuck there, then he was saying he'd rather waste away, or worse, become a _Talon_ and then try to get away! "I'm the reason we're free!" he exclaimed. "If it wasn't for me, we'd still be stuck in that death trap! Don't you see? There was no escape! Out here, we have a _chance!_"

"You guys!" Piper gasped. Still didn't get there attention.

"We're just as trapped here as we were there, thanks to _them!_" Finn pointed outside, indicating the Talons. He pointed a finger in Aerrow's face. "Think what you like, but you're not always right! You may see yourself as some sort of hero or whatever, but all you've done is made everything worse!"

Worse? How in the _world_ had Aerrow _ever_ made things _worse?_ His anger was boiling now, his face as red as his hair. "Yes, this is all my fault," he retorted sarcastically. "Because I'm the one who killed hundreds of people, grabbed a bunch of innocent kids and locked them away in a prison in the worst place in the world. That's all _my fault!_"

"_HEY!_"

The shout was so loud that Radarr was frightened into hiding behind Aerrow's leg. Shocked out of their argument, the boys turned to Piper with wide eyes.

She looked as flustered and irritated as either one of them but for a totally different reason. "Would someone _please_ tell me what's going on here?"

Finn turned sour again. He put up his hands in surrender. "Hey, don't blame me. I wanted to tell you." He pointed to Aerrow accusingly. "This was all _his_ idea!"

Piper crossed her arms as she turned to Aerrow. "It always seems to come back to you." Her voice was tense, quiet, cold.

"Doesn't it?" Aerrow teased. He gave her his signature lopsided smile, trying to lighten the darkened mood.

But Piper didn't smile back. She only nodded her head toward the cave entrance. "Who are those Cyclonians, and why are they chasing you?"

Aerrow shifted on his feet and then ran a hand through his hair uneasily. How was she going to take this?

Finally, he began. "The story we told you before—"

"_You_ told her!" Finn corrected.

Aerrow ignored him. "—was true. We just didn't tell you everything."

"Again with the _we!_"

"Shut up, Finn!" Aerrow and Piper exclaimed in unison.

Finn crossed his arms, glaring at both of them. "Fine," he huffed.

Aerrow took a breath, deciding to get right to the point. "We . . . we escaped from a Cyclonian prison mine."

"_What?_" Piper stared at him as if she was seeing him for the first time.

Well, that began it. Piper begged for details and constantly asked questions. Bit by bit, Aerrow told her their main story, of their capture, their life in the Lava Mine, and how they escaped. They eventually sat down for the tale. When he felt he was done, Piper pestered him with questions, drawing out details Aerrow had never wanted to say: Finn's stealing the name tag (which Finn bragged about) and Aerrow's covering for him (Finn looked at his feet during that part), Grimsley and gang, and still further back, until he had explained who Lance and Gos were.

When Piper wanted to know more about his and Radarr's capture, Aerrow hesitated even more. _That_ was a story he hadn't even told Finn in full. Piper eventually gave up trying to draw out more. Finn also offered little about what happened when he was captured.

Finally, when they reached a long pause, Aerrow smiled tentatively at Piper. "So . . . what do you think?"

Piper just glared daggers at him. "How could you keep something like this from me?"

"Hey, to our defense," Finn said, "you weren't exactly nice to us when we met."

Piper rolled her eyes. "Not nice? I saved your lives! Besides," she pointed at Aerrow, "I thought you were saying it was all his fault, anyway."

Looking taken aback, Finn didn't know what to say to that. "Well . . . I mean, it is . . ."

Piper stood up, this time glaring at Finn. "_You _could have said something, too!"

"Not without making _him_ angry!" He pointed at Aerrow.

"What is with the _pointing_ at me?" Aerrow asked. "Why am I the bad guy here? All I ever tried to do was . . ." Aerrow trailed off as he realized he didn't know _what_ he'd been trying to accomplish all this time. Surviving? That was the only answer he could think of.

Piper backed away from them. "You didn't tell me."

"We didn't know the Talons would follow!" Aerrow exclaimed. "I swear!" He was on his feet now, too. "It's been a week! I don't know why they're following us, but I swear, if I knew . . ."

Piper didn't answer but only looked away.

Aerrow took a breath. "Look, I'm sorry! I didn't know. Honest!"

Finally, Piper glared at him. "You're missing the point!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot on the ground angrily. "I know you didn't think I'd be in danger. That's not why I'm angry. I'm angry because you didn't trust me enough to tell me!"

Aerrow was taken aback. "It's not about trust . . ."

"Isn't it?" Piper challenged. She looked wild and enraged. "After everything we've talked about, every night, you still didn't think to tell me this _major _detail! Why? Afraid I'd run away?"

Aerrow recoiled. "Well . . . yeah. I . . . I thought you'd be scared. You wouldn't want to travel with us . . ."

"_Not wanted to?_" Piper seemed in complete disbelief, and her rage only heightened. "That's ridiculous! If you think that, you really _don't_ trust me!" She looked at him hard, with a hint of desperation. "I trusted you!"

Angrily she took off her bracelet and thrust it to the ground.

For the first time, Aerrow understood the extent to which he had grown attached to her . . . and she to him. Throughout the course of these past few days, she had shared with him hopes, dreams, and fears . . . and one of those fears had been a fear for his _life_. He remembered how she had reacted when they had met—had it only been nine days ago? She been so suspicious, so hard and rough, not at all wanting to show them any tenderness. But Aerrow had found she was very tender, very loving . . . if someone could draw it out of her. And she had been willing to show that to Aerrow, to open up to who she really was. She had expected the same in return.

But Aerrow had failed to live up to that image completely.

Quickly he tried to cover up his mistake. "Piper, please!" he said. "Everything I said to you before . . . it was true! This was the only big thing I kept from you! I just . . . I'm sorry!"

No response. She wouldn't even look at him.

Aerrow felt crushed by guilt. When he looked at everything, Piper really got the worst end of the deal since they've met. They drained her supplies. They've led her on a few too many misadventures. And now, they had made her a target for Cyclonians yet again. Worse yet, she seemed to have decided that they had somehow betrayed her trust.

He made a decision there. And as soon as he thought of it, he hated it. But there was no alternative.

He gestured to Piper. "You don't have to stay with us, you know," he said. "If you sneak past without us, the Talons will never chase you. They don't even know you're here. We'll give you most of the supplies, and you can get out."

"Um . . . the supplies?" Finn repeated. He didn't seem to like that idea.

Piper finally looked up and met his eyes, but her eyes were unreadable. Then she gazed around at the rest of them, at Radarr and Finn before finally looking up at Aerrow again.

"Well," she said at last, "I can't very well do that. If I leave you guys without someone to baby-sit you, you'll be caught for sure."

Aerrow couldn't help but smile.

Finn grinned. "Yes! Chica-cha!" he cheered. They all turned to him in amusement. Finn quickly backtracked. "Well, you know, it's, ah, great that you aren't wandering out alone and . . . stuff."

Aerrow and Piper chuckled. Piper stopped when she felt a pressure on her leg. She looked down to see Radarr hugging her leg gratefully.

Aerrow's eyes were shining. However their misadventure had begun, she was one of them now. She was a part of their . . . group? Team? Gang? He didn't know what to call it.

He knelt down and picked up the bracelet Piper had thrown away. Seeing him, Piper took it back and slipped it on her wrist, a smile slowly spreading across her face.

As Aerrow gazed around at them, all of them, he knew then that he loved them, so much so that his heart ached. Just the way he used to love his family.

Family. It had been a long time since Aerrow had been willing to think of that word. Family didn't always come naturally, as he once thought. He was now starting to believe that a family could be made.

Family. For the first time in years, he liked the sound of it.

* * *

Author's Notes: Aw, how sweet! A family forged. I'm going to coin that phrase! Just you wait!

Quite looking at me like that! This is _not_ an Aerrow/Piper pairing! It's an origin story! They're not together in the episodes, so they shouldn't be together in an origin story. Don't bug me if I like writing Aerrow/Piper friendship fics! They make cute best friends!


	21. Chapter 20: The End

Author's Notes: Again, a late update due to login problems. I'm not getting many reviews lately, so I'm thinking Fanfiction's problems are messing with more people than just me. Either that, or my long absence has made me lose some of my audience. Eh, oh, well. Here we go.

* * *

Chapter 20: The End

_Sacrificing your happiness for the happiness of the one you love, is by far, the truest type of love._

~Anonymous

Knowing there was not much else they could do, being surrounded by the Talons, the group hunkered down in the cave for the time being.

Finn was the first to ask that vital question. "So . . . what'd we do now?"

"I'm thinkin'," Aerrow answered.

"Maybe _you_ shouldn't think," Finn grumbled.

Aerrow rolled his eyes. "''Cause I'm the reason we're here in the first place, blah, blah, blah,'" he mocked Finn. "Yeah, I get it. But we're here now, and that's not gonna change."

Piper was obviously thinking, her brow furrowed. "What if we were somehow able to temporarily distract the Talons and then sneak past them?"

"Distract them?" Aerrow asked. "With what?"

Piper shrugged. "I'm still working on that part." She studied him. "How'd Lance and Gos catch you last time?"

"Starved us out," Aerrow answered, "by chasing us. But we had a skimmer."

"What I'd give to have a skimmer here," Finn moaned.

Piper went to the entrance to peer outside tentatively, for only a moment. Then she turned back to the others. "We'll have to sneak past them somehow. What if we do it when they settle in for camp?"

"Lance will have at least one guard up," Aerrow said. "We'll have to be careful."

* * *

That night, the four of them headed out as soon as they thought the Talons were asleep. Aerrow had never felt so hungry in a long time. They hadn't been able to eat, with no way of cooking their food without running the risk of revealing their hiding place.

As they tiptoed out of the protection of the overhang, they all became more cautious, aware that they were out in the open, exposed. As they neared the area that they knew to be the Talons' camp, they took to scrambling from boulder or volcano to the next, trying to keep out of sight.

Aerrow paused for only a moment when he peered around one boulder. Just as he suspected, there was a guard sitting alertly. The group had made a point of going around behind him, so he wasn't facing them. Everyone else was asleep.

Aerrow led the way behind the guard. It would take a couple of boulder/volcano stops to make it past.

They had terrible timing. The guard was getting up to shake one of his comrades to wake him up.

They were just tiptoeing past when Finn tripped on a large stone. With a loud, "Oof!" he landed flat on his face. Piper stopped to pick him up. Aerrow and Radarr were already safely hidden.

But it was too late. The Talons whirled around. "_You!_" one yelled.

Both Finn and Piper turned to the sound. "Uh oh," Piper gasped.

Aerrow thought _uh oh_ was an understatement.

The Talons got up as one with their staffs, shouting. Others were already raising their heads groggily.

Aerrow and Radarr turned and _ran_. Aerrow knew, from experience, from plain common sense, that Piper and Finn would be right behind him.

He made it to a volcano large enough to provide cover. It was inactive at the moment, and as soon as he was behind it, he leaned his back against it. Radarr did the same. Both were breathing heavily.

Finn and Piper didn't show.

Panicky, Aerrow quickly staggered toward the side of the volcano so he could peer around it . . . just barely.

But he could see nothing. He had made sure his escape path was as secure as possible.

From what he could see, his friends weren't coming. And from here, he couldn't see if . . . if possibly . . . they had been captured.

Looking up the face of the volcano, he saw that past lava channels had made grooves in it. Without telling Radarr what he was up to, he started climbing. Giving a worried churr, Radarr followed him.

When at last they were high enough, they looked out.

Aerrow caught his breath. Finn was being held by two of the Talons. The others were forming a circle around them, and Piper was also in that circle. Aerrow couldn't hear what was being said, but he knew from his friends expressions that they were terrified.

He felt cold, deathly cold, at the thought that anything should happen to them. It was as if someone was ripping his heart out . . . like losing Radarr all over again. Finn's words rang in his head: _This is all your fault!_

He was right. This _was_ his fault!

His grip tightened on the rock as he saw the Talons close in around Piper.

This simply couldn't be happening. It _couldn't!_

When at last Aerrow could think clearly enough to say something, his voice reached out to the last thing with him. "Radarr . . . we've got to do something."

Radarr whimpered, as if he didn't know if there was anything they _could_ do.

Aerrow began climbing down. "I'm going after them," he announced.

Radarr squawked in terror.

Once they were on the ground, Aerrow looked at him again. "I mean it, Radarr. I'm going after them."

Radarr just looked at him dubiously, as if to say, _How?_

"Radarr . . . listen." He knelt in front of him. "I want you nearby, but don't you _dare_ try anything that'll get you caught. You got it? I need you to lead the others away."

Radarr whimpered again, _really_ worried now about what Aerrow had in mind.

"Please, Radarr."

At last, Radarr gulped and nodded. He didn't like the agreement he was making, and he might break it if he had to, to save Aerrow. But he could not abandon Piper or Finn, either.

"Good," Aerrow said. "Here's what we'll do."

* * *

For Piper, this was all quite a strange, terrifying experience. For Finn, it seemed like a strange, nightmare-quality case of déjà vu of the first time he was caught.

Finn hadn't gotten away fast enough when they had retreated, and one of the Talon guards had caught him by the arm. The other guard soon helped him with the boy.

Piper had made the mistake of hesitating when she saw Finn in trouble. It had given some of the Talons enough time to overtake her. Now she was surrounded.

All she could do was close her eyes and pray that Aerrow and Radarr got away. Then she charged at one of the Talons.

She did manage to barrel him over, but he tripped her up when she did. She fell, busting her watch against a rock.

She was up again in a moment but not soon enough. A Talon came at her. Laughing, he grabbed her arm, making her gasp. "Let go of me!" she exclaimed, trying to shake out of his grasp.

"Easy with her!" A green-haired Talon stepped forward, his eyes hard. Aerrow had described the man well enough that she knew who he was instantly: Lance.

The Talon growled. "I only wanted some fun," he grumbled. "I don't see why I can't, after all we've had to go through."

"She's only a girl!" Lance looked ready to strike the Talon who held her.

Piper looked at him curiously. How had Aerrow described him? _A good guy, in an evil sort of way._

He studied her with an unreadable expression. "So this is how the boys managed," he said. "They found you."

"Hey, don't touch her!"

Piper turned to see Finn struggling vainly against his own captors. That only served to get him a punch in the face. Piper flinched and watched as Finn went limp a moment, his breathing ragged, before he finally looked up.

One of the Talons looked up at Lance. "Is this the one?" he asked.

Lance shook his head. "Not the one Buteo wanted."

"Yeah," another Talon shot back. "He wants the one with the critter."

It took a moment for Piper to realize they were talking about Aerrow.

The bearded one, who Piper thought might be Gos, looked at Finn as if he were a skimpy piece of meat. "Hope he's satisfied with this one."

Lance looked to his Switchblade before pointing to two other Talons. "You two, with me. We'll see if we can't spot the other boy."

"He probably already met his maker in this place," one Talon grumbled.

Lance shook his head. "Not Sparrow. If they're here," he pointed to Piper and Finn, "then he's here. Somewhere."

Piper watched fearfully as the three Switchblades took to the skies. She hoped they wouldn't find Aerrow. To her relief, they took off in the wrong direction.

The Talon holding Piper turned back to her. "Well, let's see what these two got, shall we?"

Gos shook his head. "Get your grubby hands off her," he said, sounding exasperated. "Lance'll have your hide."

"Lance isn't here," the Talon pointed out. "So what does it—?"

At that moment, a shadow seemed to unhinge itself from a nearby slab of rock and turn upon the Talon. He was flat on the ground before Piper figured out what had happened.

Someone was standing over the stunned Talon.

"Aerrow!" Piper gasped. "But how did you—?"

"Not now!" Aerrow hissed. "Go!"

Piper didn't know whether he meant to escape or to help Finn, but she chose the latter. She ran at the Talon, slipping her bag off her shoulder as she did. One of the Talons let go of Finn and came at her, but she knocked his head with her bag.

Aerrow was right behind her, but he was after the other Talon and kicked him where no man wanted to be kicked.

Finn staggered away from the Talon, showing him his fists as he did. The Talon had fallen to his knees without Finn even touching him. "Yeah, that's right!" he exclaimed. "No one can hold the Finnster!"

But Aerrow had grabbed his shoulder. He shoved him and Piper away. "Look for Radarr!"

Radarr was standing off to the side, chirping, indicating they should follow him. Without second thoughts, Finn and Piper headed for the escape.

But Aerrow lingered. He knew they couldn't outrun the Talons by far. If they all ran, they would all be caught again. He stayed behind, hoping to hold the Talons off a little longer.

"You, kid!" Gos exclaimed. He swept toward Aerrow, trying to grab him. Aerrow rolled out of the way just in time and jumped as one of the pulses from Gos's staff came at him, but a second one he wasn't ready for. He was knocked flat to the ground.

Struggling to his feet again, he saw two more Talons were already up, and one was recovering. Piper and Finn were nowhere to be seen, and every Talon was focused on him.

He succeeded. Now for the final test: could he save himself?

No sooner did he have both feet under him when another Talon lowered his staff at him. Aerrow leapt away again, only to confront another Talon. He knocked the guy in the stomach and threw his staff into a lava pool. "Hey!" the Talon gasped, although it came out as more of a wheeze. Aerrow spun away only to find himself suddenly face to face with Gos again. While he tried to find away around him, he felt himself hurtled sideways as pain shot through him. Another crystal pulse from a staff had struck true.

This time, Gos already had his hair in his hand by the time Aerrow came to. "You think you're real crafty, don't you kid? Didn't anyone teach you humility?"

Aerrow just smiled uneasily. "Hey, Gos." He had one move left. While still being held, he kicked at Gos's shin.

It worked well enough. Gos let go of him, gasping in pain.

But Aerrow had hardly sat up when pain exploded in his head. He collapsed.

Groggily, he opened his eyes to see a blurry figure standing over him. His head pounded, but at last his vision cleared well enough to see a Talon holding a bloody stone.

Wait, bloody? Heart beating wildly at the thought, Aerrow fought to get up. But it was as if that last blow had knocked all the energy out of him. He couldn't even lift his head.

But an angry, savage howl rang out. The Talon screamed as he staggered back, something furry clinging to his face. "R-Radarr?" Aerrow managed.

Again, he fought to raise his head, just to see what was going on. His head whirled and his vision blackened every time he tried. All he could do was listen to the wild howls, squeals, and growls, some human, many he knew to be Radarr's.

It tore his heart to hear a high-pitched whimper. "Radarr!" he gasped.

Things were quiet. His pounding head seemed to drown out everything else. But he felt Radarr crawl close to him.

Aerrow didn't want to see if he was injured badly, and if so, where. He just put a hand on the creature, relishing the feel of him being close. It was as it was supposed to be. Two friends, together until the end.

And this was the end.

There was nothing more for Aerrow to see. His vision only blurred in color, and a red curtain was falling over one eye. Wearily he closed his eyes. He heard a whimper and a cold nose against his neck, but he didn't open his eyes.

They had lost. This was it for them. At least Piper and Finn got away.

* * *

Author's Notes: Aw, poor Aerrow! He's so easy to beat up, though. He just takes it so well.

Don't worry. Despite this chapter's title, this is obviously _not_ the end of the fic.

Hey, where are you going? Get back here! Press that review button! You heard me, soldier!

*reader glares at Wolf and balls up a fist*

Um . . . please?


	22. Chapter 21: Never Give Up

Author's Notes: I think Fanfiction has finally cleared up their problem. Let's hope so, anyway.

* * *

Chapter 21: Never Give Up

_Why should you be beaten anymore? Why do you persist in rebellion? Your whole head is injured, your whole heart afflicted._

~Isaiah 1:5

Piper and Finn had at last reached the place where Aerrow's bag was thrown against the side of an inactive volcano. Both were gasping. The two exchanged glances, both glad that the other was okay. Although normally at odds, at the moment they were happy to be friends.

But poor Finn, Piper thought. She could see that his face was red where the Talon had punched him, and his eye was swelling. It would probably turn into a black eye.

The Talons had done a decent job throwing her around, too, Piper thought bitterly. She took the remains of her watch off her wrist and dropped it to the ground.

It was only at that moment that Piper realized they were alone. She stood up. "Wait . . . Where's Aerrow? And Radarr?"

Finn, his eyes widening, straightened as well and whirled around. "Radarr was just here . . . He led us this way." He looked confused.

Piper looked around in all directions, looking to see if Aerrow would catch up with them, but she knew Aerrow would have no trouble keeping up. If he had followed them at all.

There was not a sign of him or Radarr anywhere.

Piper looked in the direction they had come, realization dawning on her. "No."

Finn stared at her, looking terrified. "You don't think . . ."

Finn didn't finish, but Piper knew the question. And she didn't answer him.

Finn stared at the way they come wildly. "Well . . . we have to go back!"

Piper shook her head. "And do what? Get ourselves caught? Then their whole rescue scene would have been for nothing!"

"We can't just leave them there!"

Piper sighed, closing her eyes. What could they do?

They stood there at first, undecided. Then finally Piper asked, "What will they do to him?"

"What?"

"Aerrow. Lance said something about some guy wanting Aerrow. What are they going to do?"

Finn didn't look at her when he answered. "Lance said Buteo wanted him. He's the warden of Lava Mine." He shook his head. "I don't know. Why would they want him at all?"

"You three have gotten further than all other escapees, right?" Piper pointed out.

"Well . . . yeah."

"And Aerrow's already gotten in trouble with Buteo more than once, right?"

Finn paled, perhaps thinking of the nametag incident. "Yeah." He was starting to worry about where she was going with this. "What're you saying? What's your point?"

"What if . . . what if the warden wants to show what happens when someone tries to get out?"

Finn looked stunned at her suggestion. "No. They can't! There's rules . . . They can't whip anyone under fourteen or deprive them of more than one meal or . . . or . . ." He knew there were more restrictions, but it had been so long since he had to worry about them. "Only adults get the full punishments. They don't hurt kids. They just . . . don't."

"Have they ever bended those rules before?" Piper asked.

Finn grew paler.

His reaction scared Piper even more than her theory on its own. "What? What would they do to him?"

Finn just shook his head, biting his lip. "We've got to go back."

Piper didn't have an answer to that. While she was thinking of one, she was distracted by something else. "Look!"

Finn gasped as he turned to see. Piper was already running forward.

Radarr was limping slowly toward them on all fours. He carried one forepaw high in the air. Piper wondered why he didn't just get up on two legs to favor it when he saw he stepped gingerly on a hind foot as well. His ears drooped, his head was hanging, and his tail dragged along the ground.

He hadn't even quite reached them when Piper knelt down beside him, gently steadying him with her hands. "Oh, Radarr, what happened?"

Radarr only looked up at her and whimpered, his eyes lost.

"Are you alright?" she asked, stunned. She studied him. Based on his reactions, his forepaw was the only thing truly hurt, but there was blood on his fur that didn't seem to be seeping from any wound.

Finn knelt down on the other side of him. "Hey, little buddy," he greeted Radarr gently. He looked up at Piper. "How is he?"

"He'll be okay," she said, "but . . . that blood . . ." She pointed it out of him, a stain upon the top of his head and his ears.

"It's not bad?" Finn asked, looking sick.

"It's not _his_," she said. She met Radarr's eyes. "Radarr, what happened? Where's Aerrow?"

Radarr met her eyes in a long steady gaze. A deep whimper rose in throat. Then, without warning, he flopped down on the ground as if he never planned on getting up again, crying like a puppy.

Finn shook his head. "But . . . Lance wouldn't let the other Talons hurt Aerrow. He never would."

"Lance wasn't there," Piper reminded him, "and those Talons didn't seem to care what he thought."

Piper turned back to Radarr. "Radarr . . . Aerrow's still there, isn't he? We can go back and get him."

Radarr only whimpered in response. He didn't move, not even to look at her.

Piper felt tears pricking her eyes. Was Radarr saying Aerrow wasn't there to save or that there was simply no way? She wasn't sure, but she felt certain that Radarr wouldn't be giving up if there was a still chance.

Piper looked down at her bracelet, her heart aching. If Aerrow was hurt, then they couldn't save him anyway. They had no way of transporting an injured person. They would need some sort of skyride . . .

At the thought, Piper's eyes lit up! "That's it!"

Finn and Radarr both looked up, startled by her sudden enthusiasm. "What?" Finn asked.

"I know how we're going to get out of here!"

"What about Aerrow?"

"He's part of it. We're going to save him _and_ us. Come on, we've got to get back to the Talons' camp!"

She slung her bag over the shoulder before pointing to Aerrow's bag. "Finn, could you get that?"

Finn, still bewildered, shrugged and did as she said. "Are we going to eat?" he asked as he swung Aerrow's bag onto his back. They hadn't eaten for almost twenty-four hours, thanks to their long hideout from the Talons earlier.

"First we need to make sure the Talons aren't leaving yet," she said. Radarr was starting to wearily get to his feet, but Piper scooped him up in her arms so he didn't have to walk on his bad paw.

"You're going to explain on the way, right?"

"Yeah! Come on!"

As Radarr snuggled into Piper's arms, he was finding the conversation between the two vaguely familiar. He just hoped this plan ended better than Aerrow's had.

* * *

Aerrow didn't know how long he lay unconscious. It could have seconds, minutes, hours, maybe even _days_. Although he figured that if it had been days, he would have died of thirst by now.

When he came to, the first thing he did was move his hand where he had felt Radarr's fur. Radarr was no longer there. Had his friend been pulled from his grasp, or had the little guy somehow managed to get away?

As his hand gripped at the volcanic rock that made up the ground in the Wastelands, he was aware that his position had been changed. He was no longer lying crumpled on the ground but instead had his back leaning up against a rock that propped his upper body up at a slight angle.

Hesitantly, Aerrow attempted to open his eyes, hoping not to get that vertigo sensation again. But he couldn't prevent it. He groaned involuntarily as he closed his eyes and tried to will the pain in his head to go away.

"You're awake."

The words sounded as if they had come out of a fog, somehow distant. Aerrow tried to focus on it and pinpoint the sound, but it only made his head hurt worse.

"Easy, boy. You'll be alright."

Aerrow still couldn't pinpoint the voice, but he had the feeling he knew who it was. And its identity didn't comfort him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was finally able to make out a blurry image of a man dressed in red. The image finally cleared enough for him to make out Lance's face.

Lance reached a hand out to the boy, and Aerrow didn't have the energy to try to move away. He laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Look at me, kid. Tell me, do you know who you are?"

Aerrow stared at him as if he were crazy. He almost said "Aerrow," but then he remembered his "secret identity." "Sparrow," he answered. He wanted to lift a hand to feel his head, but he didn't feel like he had the strength.

"Count backward from ten to one."

As Aerrow followed directions, he tried to figure out what was going on until he remembered Piper had asked him to do the same thing once. Lance was checking for a concussion.

Aerrow didn't know why this was so important. For crying out loud, a Talon had hit him in the head with a stone! Did they not want him dead?

But as the battle came back to Aerrow's memory, he realized something was missing. "Where's Radarr?" he asked, interrupting Lance. Concerned as he was, his voice sounded groggy with pain and disorientation.

Lance smiled. "I thought you might ask. He fought pretty hard for you. Even after you fell unconscious, he kept us away from you as best he could, growling and warding us off. He was a vicious sight to see. He tried to wake you a couple times. Took him quite awhile for him to finally give it up."

Aerrow felt confused as he tried to follow the story. "So . . . he got away?"

"Yes," Lance answered gently. "He got away." He placed a hand behind Aerrow's head and held a canteen to his lips. "Here."

Aerrow hadn't realized it until then, but he was absolutely parched. Gratefully he drank the water, which helped sooth the burning in his throat.

Once he had his fill, Aerrow closed his eyes, feeling like he wanted to fall asleep again. Oh, how his head hurt! Loud sounds seemed to force a hammer to slam against his head every time they reached his ears. And by _loud_, he meant anything above a whisper.

"Sparrow? Don't you fade on me now, boy!"

Aerrow's eyes flickered open. He wanted to come up with some smart comment for the Talon, but he couldn't even think straight.

He felt pain in his head again, but this time he was aware that it came from pressure being applied to the wound. He could make out Lance holding some sort of cloth against his head. The lieutenant looked angry. "The one who did this is not going unpunished," he promised Aerrow. "Don't you worry about that."

Aerrow let his eyes close again. It was too much work to keep them open.

"Sparrow?" Lance seemed to be speaking constantly, and Aerrow found it annoying. He just wanted to rest. "Sparrow, don't you dare go to sleep on me. You hear me, kid? You've got to stay awake."

Aerrow was conscious enough to know the dangers of succumbing to the pain now. He just didn't care anymore. There was nothing left for him to wake up for, anyway. He was just done with it all.

Lance sounded frustrated, maybe even frantic. "I've come too far, kid, to watch you give up on me now!" He grabbed the boy's arm and shook him gently.

Aerrow finally opened his eyes again. "Please stop," he begged.

Lance gave him a look so concerned, so pleading, that Aerrow was shocked to see it on the face of a Talon. "I was sent to take you back, and I _am_ bringing you back. As whole as I possibly can." He seemed to look up past Aerrow . . . or perhaps at the top of his head. "It seems the rock opened up an old injury and made it worse. You hit your head recently?"

Aerrow couldn't help but give a small smile just for himself as he thought of saying, _I got hit by a talon._ Is that not ironic, to be injured in the same place by different threats of the same name?

When Lance didn't get an answer out loud, he only patted his arm. "I'm coming back with something for you to eat." He pointed to him. "You _will _be awake when I come back."

Aerrow somehow willed his eyes to look up and meet his. He swallowed, trying to answer. "Okay," he managed at last. He might as well hold on as long as he could. Perhaps he could find another way to escape again.

* * *

Aerrow felt himself fall into a world where he was only semi-conscious. He was aware of Lance talking to him and giving him broth and water, but that was all he could really make out. He seemed to recall Lance telling him that they were camping here until he felt Aerrow was well enough to be moved.

During a time when he was more awake then asleep, he heard angry voices coming from the center of the campsite. "We've been out here for ten days, lieutenant. Ten days! Buteo's only going to use the boy. Why is it so important to save him now?"

Lance was the one who answered. "My orders were to bring him back. I intend to do that."

Another angry voice rose up. "We're running low on supplies, and we're not even within Cyclonian borders anymore! It'll take at least a day to get back!"

"I am aware of this."

"And still you do nothing? You know what most of us would like to do? Leave him! He's not going to make it back, anyway."

"You're already in trouble for striking him in the first place! If we left him, do know what Buteo would do if he found out _you_ were the one who killed him?"

"I had no choice! There was no other way to stop him. He was on a rampage!"

"Besides," another voice added, "he's only extra cargo. We haven't the supplies for that. And keeping him well means making smaller rations to share!"

"Lance . . ." It was Gos this time. "They're probably right."

Lance's voice rose up angrily. "We're not leaving him. If he dies, fine then! But I won't let him without knowing that we did everything we could!"

Aerrow was sure Gos responded, but he didn't know what he said. He fell again into blackness.

* * *

When he awoke again, there were hands on him. They didn't feel rough like most Talons' hands or even large and powerful like Lance's. These hands were small and gentle, too soft to deal with him harshly even if that was the intent.

A voice was whispering in his ear. "Aerrow? Aerrow, wake up! Please!"

The pleading voice was familiar, so much so that as much as his head hurt, his brain jumped into gear, trying to place it. He was pleased to feel that his head no longer had stabbing pains but only a constant throbbing.

The main thing that jolted his memory was that voice didn't say his prison number or his alias but his true name. There were only two people who knew his name. And only one of them was female.

"P-Piper?" Wearily Aerrow fought to open his eyes, again relieved to find that there was no stabbing pain from his head. Indeed, it was Piper kneeling in front of him, her eyes filled with worry. She was holding his shoulders, looking him straight in the face as if trying to make eye contact. Aerrow met her eyes only to see that they glistened a little too much.

But when Piper whispered again, it wasn't to him. "Radarr, Finn . . . he's awake!" A sad smile broke her lips, as if she was relieved but afraid to hope.

Radarr was suddenly beside him, squirming all over him with delight and whimpering quietly. He held still when he saw Aerrow lift his hand shakily to stroke his head. Aerrow couldn't help smiling, relieved that his friend didn't seem to be hurt, except for his arm.

Finn was kneeling next to Piper now, smiling at him. "Dude, should've known they couldn't best ya!"

Aerrow's throbbing head tried to make sense of all of this. His friends were here. Then fear gripped him. His friends were _here_, in the Talons' camp! "What . . . what are you guys doing here?"

"Rescuing you, of course," Piper said.

"And getting out of here," Finn added.

"You shouldn't . . . They'll catch you . . ." Then Aerrow grasped what Finn said. "Getting out?"

"We're taking one of the Switchblades," Piper explained.

Oh. As soon as he said it, Aerrow felt a silent _duh_ run through his head. "Why didn't I think of that beforehand?" he grumbled.

"We're getting out of here now," Piper whispered urgently. "Can . . . can you get up?"

"I . . . think so." Thank goodness the pain had decreased. Aerrow lifted his head, tensing his muscles in anticipation for the effort. He didn't get much further, for as soon as he lifted his head, he felt the throbbing in his head grow to hammering.

A hand was placed on his cheek, supporting his head. Aerrow hadn't realized he let it fall until then.

Piper looked at him fearfully while she held him. "What have they done to you?" she gasped.

Aerrow knew that was a halfway rhetorical question; she could see the damage for herself.

Rather than bothering to answer, Aerrow tried once again to stand. When he pain in his head began mounting, he simply ignored it. He used the rock he had leaned on for support as he shakily rose to feet. All the while hands were on him, steadying him. Even Radarr had leapt onto the top of the rock and had a firm grip on Aerrow's shoulder.

Again Aerrow's head seemed to be weighing on him and causing the world to spin. He was pretty sure his friends' support was the only reason he stayed on his feet. He even felt his knees buckling and heard his own breath coming in painful gasps. With one hand he clutched at his head, trying ease the pain.

When at last the pain dulled into throbbing again, he stood up straight again. "Thanks. I'm okay now."

Finn kept a hand on Aerrow's shoulder, prepared to steady him. Aerrow glanced at him and noticed for the first time that Finn's eye was swollen and dark. Did the Talons do that?

Piper turned away. She was shaking, but Aerrow didn't hear any sobs. If anything, she looked angry. No, not angry; _furious!_ And her death glare was directed at the sleeping Talons.

One of them wasn't sleeping, though. One of them was crumpled on the ground. Aerrow guessed that one must have been his guard when Piper, Finn, and Radarr showed up.

Aerrow guessed he'd probably be angry, too, but he simply didn't have the energy for it. "Well, what are we waiting for?" he said at last.

"I . . . haven't exactly thought this through," Piper admitted. "The sound of the engine will wake the other Talons and they'll chase us. The Wasteland isn't safe to fly fast."

Fly. Fast. Not safe. Aerrow met Radarr's eyes with a smirk. Radarr just lifted an eyebrow as if to say, _Oh no, you don't!_

But Aerrow was. Turning to Piper, he said, "The longer we wait, the worse. Let's go. I'll drive."

"Great," Finn grumbled sarcastically. "So when you pass out, we'll just crash into a lava river. Perfect."

"Trust me," Aerrow said. "I'll be fine. I can fly."

Piper crossed her arms and glared at him. "You can fly if you can walk."

"Yes, _Mother_," Aerrow answered teasingly. He shrugged off Finn's hand. Now that he was on his feet, everything seemed easier. The hardest part, he knew, would be the jolt of each step when he walked. If it stabbed him with pain, then there was little he could do. So long as his head was only a dull throb, he could manage.

He took a step. Some pain, but no more than if he had been standing still. Then another. It was working. Aerrow couldn't help smiling as he realized he was going to be alright.

He stopped beside Piper. "Which one?" he asked, looking at the Switchblades in a cluster.

"Does it matter?" Finn asked.

Piper pointed. "That one. It's not as hemmed in."

They began to approach the Switchblade when they heard a voice. "Where do you think you're going?"

They all whirled around. "Lance," Aerrow gasped.

* * *

Author's Notes: Ooh, cliffy!


	23. Chapter 22: Fly Away Home

Chapter 22: Fly Away Home

_I said, "Oh, that I had the wings of a dove! I would fly away and be at rest—I would flee far away and stay in the desert; I would hurry to my place of shelter, far from the tempest and storm."_

~Psalm 55:6-8

Lance stood before them, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. If a Talon had to wake up, Aerrow was glad it was Lance. But even Lance made things much more complicated.

Lance lifted his chin. "So, you're going to fly away?"

Aerrow didn't see the point in trying to trick Lance. The man had tracked them here and had probably heard them talking. "Yes," he answered hesitantly.

Lance shook his head. "You wouldn't have gotten far."

"Lance." Aerrow spoke desperately. "You know what they were going to do. This is our chance. We're getting away. If we get out, no one will blame you. No one will know." When Lance didn't say anything, Aerrow tried again. "You fought for me, remember?"

Lance's eyes were shifty, as if he were trying to quickly think of a decision, flip-flopping from one to the other. When he finally met Aerrow's eyes again, his voice did not hold any of the gentleness he had had always used with him before. "You don't get it, do you, kid? You know what they'll do to me, regardless of whether or not your escape is my fault? I'll lose my status. A soldier is expendable; an officer is not. Without me, my family has no support." His eyes hardened. "I worked hard to be lieutenant, and if I lose that rank, I'll never get the chance again. You see, Sparrow . . . I can't let you go."

Aerrow kept his eyes on him, slowly taking a step back. Finn, Piper, and Radarr all did the same. "And then what? You know what'll happen to us. You want that?"

Lance's eyes flashed dangerously, and for the first time, Aerrow saw the Talon's anger directed at him. "It's not about what I want. Chasing kids through the Wastelands was never my idea. I am a Talon to fight for Cyclonia and stop the Sky Knights . . . not to beat on innocent children."

"You still believe in fighting for Cyclonia?" It was the first time Piper had spoken to the Talon. Only she would dare question a Talon's beliefs.

"No," Lance answered evenly, "but I'm too deep in it now. I've no choice." He took another step toward them. "Which means nor do you." His eyes softened again. "I don't want to hurt you. If you come quietly, we won't have a scuffle."

Aerrow knew neither he nor his friends had any thoughts of giving up now. Besides, they were closer to the Switchblades than they were to Lance. But Aerrow knew as soon as they made a break for it, Lance would raise the alarm. Aerrow knew he could walk, but he wasn't sure he could run. And if he couldn't run, could he make it to the Switchblade in time?

He would have to try. "Now!"

At his shout, he and the others spun around and sprinted toward the Switchblade. At least, Aerrow tried. His head stabbed him with pain as soon as he went the first few strides. When Finn's hand touched the handlebars of the skyride, Aerrow was still paces behind, having fallen to his knees.

Lance yelled to the other Talons. "The kid's getting away!" But he didn't stop to see if they heard; he was already lunging at the boy left kneeling on the ground.

But he never got to him. Instead, the Talon heard a vicious growl and was pulled over onto his back when something grabbed hold of his pant leg. Radarr glared him as he savagely shook his head, Lance's pants locked in his teeth.

Aerrow's head was still swimming when he felt someone pulling him to his feet. "Come on, Aerrow!" Piper's voice cried to him desperately.

Aerrow tried to ignore the pain, tried to focus. Piper had taken his arm and was allowing him to lean on her for support. It wasn't that he couldn't walk; he simply couldn't _see_. Everything spun in a kaleidoscope of color.

They were steps away from the Switchblade when Aerrow's vision cleared. Without hesitation, Aerrow leapt for the front of the seat, praying that the quick movement wouldn't bring on more dizziness. It didn't.

The others got on the Switchblade while Aerrow started the motor. Radarr made a flying leap onto Aerrow's back just as the Switchblade zoomed forward.

No sooner were they in the air when they heard another motor. Finn looked back. "Um, we have company!" he cried.

Aerrow, Radarr, and Piper glanced back to see that two Switchblades were already in the air and flying after them. Three other Talons were mounting on theirs below, while the last one was looking around helplessly. Obviously it was his ride they had stolen.

"Think they'll catch us?" Piper asked.

Aerrow smirked as he looked ahead. "They can try!"

Finn looked up. He knew that tone. "Uh oh."

Aerrow headed straight for an active volcano. When Piper saw it looming in front of them, she gasped. "Aerrow, what are you—?"

The next moment, Piper and Finn were screaming as Aerrow swerved around the spraying stream of lava, coming dangerously close to it. "Wahoo!" Aerrow shouted over their screams.

Two of their five pursuers screamed as they approached the spraying lava and pulled up, losing the escapees in the confusion. The three other pursuers, including Lance and Gos, made a wider curve around the volcano. In doing so, they lost ground, but at least they were still in the chase.

But Aerrow wasn't done yet. They started coming out over a lava lake. The lakes were something the kids and Radarr had avoided to keep from being jumped by a magma beast. And even now, magma beasts were threat.

The first one reared its ugly head out of the water with a tremendous roar, striking out at one of the Talons. Aerrow thought it was probably Gos, but he couldn't be sure. He didn't even turn his head to see if the Talon had made it out of the scrap.

Aerrow kept dodging rocks and volcanoes without a backward glance. When he finally dared to look over his shoulder, there were still three Talons were left.

Finn pulled out his slingshot and a rock . . . although Aerrow wasn't sure where he got the rock from. As soon as Finn fired, the rock hit Gros and knocked him off his ride.

Okay, only two Talons left, one being Lance. Aerrow grit his teeth when he saw the other was the same one that had hit him in the head.

Getting an idea, Aerrow yelled, "Hold on!" and suddenly pulled the Switchblade up onto its stern, shooting straight up into the black clouds above. Piper apparently had given up asking what Aerrow was doing and was in for the ride (eyes closed), but Finn kept looking around frantically.

After a speedy climb that made their ears pop painfully, Aerrow suddenly flipped them around so that they were facing the Talons, who had been flying straight up at them.

Piper (eyes open now) stared in shock. Aerrow was playing chicken!

Just as the skimmer slowed for the spin, Finn cried, "We're _so_ dead!"

"Maybe," Aerrow admitted. Then he went full speed toward the Talon who had hit him.

The Talon looked determined to hit Aerrow again, this time with his staff, but he couldn't shoot and ascend vertically at the same time. So instead, he played Aerrow's game. But his face grew more and more fearful as he realized Aerrow wasn't pulling up. The boy had nothing to lose; the Talon, on the other hand, had everything to lose. At the last minute, he screamed and dove away, sending him out of a control.

Before Aerrow could turn the skyride horizontal again, Lance had already made his move toward him. He was in the process of pulling up next to them and leveling his staff when Aerrow barrel rolled away.

Lance was more frustrated than ever. "You can't out-fly everything, Sparrow!"

"Try me!" Aerrow shot back.

Lance tried, all right. He shot multiple times at their Switchblade with his staff and his blasters. But Aerrow dodged all, if just barely. The attack had only allowed the escapees to gain distance.

Then, as if that wasn't enough, Aerrow slanted into a dive and swooped behind a smoldering volcano. Lance followed more than a second behind.

But when he circled the smog of the volcano, he could not find the kids anywhere.

Irritated that he had lost his query—for the first time in his career!—he looked at the volcano's smoking core. If Sparrow flew _through_ the smog, instead of around it, then he would be burned instantly; the gas could be over a thousand degrees Fahrenheit. Lance hadn't thought Sparrow was stupid enough to try that, but maybe, just maybe, the chase had made the boy desperate enough. Fear and desperation did much damage to a fellow's sense.

If he had flown into the gas, all three kids and the critter were lost. And Lance could not find another explanation, unless they had simply disappeared.

Disappointed, in both his shaky status and in genuine concern for the children, he drove back the way he came to meet with the others and head back. Back to Lava Mine.

Back to Cyclonia.

Lance didn't think he was either happy or disappointed in that fact. It was just what must be done. As he had told Sparrow, he was in too deep now to think of ever turning his back on the empire now. He took no pride in his job, but now there was no other job left for him.

* * *

But Aerrow hadn't been stupid enough to fly through the volcanic gas. Rather, he had used the smog as cover to rapidly ascend until their Switchblade was concealed by clouds.

They were now in the navy blue-tinted clouds just above the poisonous black billows of the Wastelands. Any moment now, they would break the cloud line. Everyone's eyes were on the skies now. This was it; this would be the first time in so long that they would get to see the real sky.

The light below dimmed until it was out, swallowed in blackness. The light above began to grow brighter, turning the clouds bluer and paler with every yard they climbed. The air around them began to smell sweeter, fresher and seeped into their lungs so quickly that the amount of oxygen available seemed to take their breath away. So long had they been in a world of black, red, orange, and yellow that they had forgotten what blue was like. So long had they been breathing in air with noxious fumes that the fresh air seemed like a godsend.

And then . . . the cloud line.

Everyone gasped in awe. There is was: the sky! The _real_ sky! A light blue on the horizon that deepened into midnight blue as one lifted one's head. And within this pristine sky were white clouds fluffy and highlighted in grey.

Their delight was beyond words. Here was the light, the freedom from the prison that had held them for so long!

Aerrow leveled off the Switchblade as they all stared in wonder. Over and over again they snuffed in the fresh year, as if they couldn't get enough of it.

But Aerrow truly felt as if he couldn't get enough of it. Without the adrenaline to keep him going, his head was hurting again. But no amount of heavy breathing or blinking was making the pain go away.

The others were too excited to notice his lethargy. "Look at that!" Finn shouted. "Blue skies! Yeah, dude!"

Radarr chattered in delight. Somehow, even in their crammed conditions, he was jumping back and forth between the three in his own celebration.

Piper giggled in delight. "We're out!" She grabbed Aerrow's arm. "Can you believe it, Aerrow? _We're out!_"

Aerrow smiled but didn't answer. The shouting was only making his headache worse. Still, the thought that they were free was exhilarating! It would be just like old times, but this time he and Radarr would bring Piper and Finn along for the ride.

Piper's smile fell when Aerrow didn't reply. "Aerrow?" She nudged him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he answered, glancing back to give her a smile. "I'm fine." He looked out over the sky. Headache or not, this was definitely one of the best days of his life. "Couldn't be better."

Piper didn't seem convinced. "Is your head hurting you?"

"Yeah," Aerrow admitted at last, "but I'll be okay. It'll go away."

Piper didn't look so sure. "Perhaps someone else should drive."

"If you want to get up and switch seats in midair," Aerrow offered teasingly, "be my guest."

Piper glared at him. "I'm not that stupid—" she said.

"No," Finn agreed, crossing his arms. "You're a know-it-all stick-in-the-mud."

"_But_," Piper added, sending Finn a glare, "we're stopping on the first terra we come to."

"We should probably do that anyway," Aerrow commented.

* * *

Aerrow didn't really quite remember the terra they landed on. Finn was the first to spot it, having the sharpest eyes of the group. Aerrow simply went where he was pointed and landed the skyride just like he'd done a thousand times before on a different ride. But everything else seemed disoriented to him. His headache hadn't gone away; it had only gotten worse.

The world didn't really make a whole lot of sense to him, and his head felt like it weighed a ton. He vaguely noticed Finn had gotten off the Skimmer rather quickly and was on the ground, plucking up grass.

Grass. It had been so long since Aerrow had felt grass. He wanted to get up and dismount, to run his fingers through it and roll in it. But he simply felt he didn't have the energy to move.

Piper was walking around, saying something excitedly and pointing at something. Aerrow heard her clearly and watched her, but he didn't retain anything.

Only Radarr sensed something was wrong. He stayed with Aerrow and whimpered, nudging the boy's hand with his nose to try to get some sort of response out of him.

"Hey, buddy," Aerrow told him as he closed his eyes. "I'll be fine. Just give me moment."

He stayed there, breathing heavily, waiting for the pain to pass. Every now and then Radarr whimpered and nudged him.

But the pain only increased. Aerrow knew now that he wasn't fine at all, and he felt he desperately needed sleep. If he could just rest a while . . .

"Aerrow?" He was pretty sure it was Finn this time. "Piper, something's wrong with Aerrow!"

Hands on him. His friends calling his name. They were moving him this time, which only served to make the throbbing worse. He was pretty sure the act made him groan.

He was still half-awake. He was aware of being dragged to his feet, of being guided somewhere. Always hands holding him and voices talking to him. He simply wanted to rest, but the hands and voices wouldn't let him.

He had an image in his half-unconscious state: a wooden doorway. Were they entering a building of some sort? How lucky they were if they had landed on a terra with friendly people!

But the building was dark inside; there was no light, no warmth that signified the presence of another. No resident.

Aerrow was laid on something soft, much softer than any bedding material he'd had in years. He felt his head being lifted and someone touching it, dabbing it, unwrapping and rewrapping, increasing the pain. Water was given to him, which he drank gratefully. It was the sweetest water he'd had in long time. Warmth spread over him, and smoke smarted in his nostrils. Was the house burning? But the warmth didn't increase; it stayed a pleasant warmth, like the heat of a hearth.

He didn't know how long things went on like this, but by the time he opened his eyes and really _saw_ anything, he had the sense they had been there awhile.

His head didn't hurt anymore. What a relief! As he lifted it, though, he realized it wasn't quite over with; his head didn't throb, exactly, but he was extremely conscious of it. Aerrow had a feeling that he might be prone of headaches for awhile.

Slowly sitting up, he took a look at where he was. He was in some sort of wooden structure . . . a little cozy cabin, by the looks of it. But when he got a better look, he saw the whole thing was coming apart. The roof was cracked, part of the wall already had fallen in, and cobwebs were present everywhere.

But the place did have a fireplace, which was currently burning. Aerrow realized he was a bed of blankets set in front of the fireplace with Radarr snuggled close to him, fast asleep, his injured arm wrapped in a bandage.

Aerrow looked around and saw why he was on these blankets; the bed, which otherwise might have been ideal, was underneath the splintered boards by the broken part of the wall.

"You're finally awake."

Aerrow peered around behind him to see Piper sitting on the floor within arms reach of him. Her first aid kit lay open on the floor beside her, many of its contents spilling out as if someone had dug through it in a hurry.

Beyond where Piper sat was a brown couch, where Finn sat sound asleep, his mouth hanging open and drool trailing out of his mouth. Aerrow gave a lopsided grin in silent laughter at the sight.

Aerrow turned back to Piper. "How long was I out?"

"We got here about midmorning," Piper answered.

Aerrow looked out at the broken part of the wall. It was dark outside now. He'd probably been in his delirium for at least ten hours.

Piper was crossing her arms, glaring at him. Aerrow raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What?"

"I'm tired of saving your life. It's too exhausting." She gave him _the look_."You _are_ going to quit scaring us like that."

"Sure," Aerrow said, "and dragons will come back to life."

"I'm serious, Aerrow."

"I know." He smiled at her. "I'm fine now."

"How do I know? You'd say you were fine if you were dying."

"I haven't been dying yet, so how do you know that?"

"Just . . . never mind." She still glared at him, angry not only his joking manner toward the situation but also at how someone could actually mince words with her. She wasn't used to losing an argument.

Aerrow just snorted in amusement. "Scold me, but you're not taking very good care of yourself." He studied the bags under her eyes. She'd been up for almost forty-eight hours on only a third of a can of soup. "You need some sleep."

Piper rolled her eyes. "_Someone_ had to stay awake with you."

By now, Aerrow was having quite a bit of déjà vu. Wasn't this a lot like what they had done on the first night they met? She had stayed awake with Aerrow to tend to his head injury. The same one, just less severe.

And just like then, Aerrow felt guilty about it and amazed at Piper's stubborn will to help.

Piper pointed to Finn. "He tried to stay awake, but after a couple hours, he sat down on the couch. He was asleep in minutes."

Aerrow smirked. "That's Finn for you."

Now that he had his few minutes of being awake, Aerrow felt his own gnawing hunger. "Um . . . so," he said to Piper, "what's for breakfast?"

Piper looked down guiltily.

She didn't even have to say anything. Aerrow knew. "We're out," he said. It was more of a statement than a question, but Piper nodded wordlessly without looking up. "When?"

"We ate the last of it during the day. There was hardly enough to split between two, so the three of us . . ." She seemed to feel guilty that they had none for him.

But Aerrow thought it was fair. After all, the others had eaten nothing while Lance had fed him before they escaped.

Aerrow thought a moment about this new dilemma. "What about fuel? Can we fly out and find more?"

Piper nodded again. "Yeah, we have fuel. We just thought we'd rest first . . . and we didn't want to leave you here alone."

Aerrow smiled again. "Maybe instead of me stopping what I'm doing, you guys should stop worrying."

"Stop taking this like it's a joke!"

Her exclamation woke Radarr, who lifted his head and whimpered questionably at the two.

Finn woke with a start. "Cyclonians!" he gasped. "They want me to play frisbee! I don't want to play frisbee! I don't like frisbee!"

Aerrow, who by now was used to Finn's strange dream outbursts, said, "Well, tell those Cyclonians."

"Aerrow, don't play with him! Finn, wake up. There's no Cyclonians."

Finn blinked repeatedly and looked around. "Oh." He looked over at the others. "Dude!" he exclaimed to Aerrow. "You're awake!"

"That surprises everyone," Aerrow muttered in amusement. He looked around them at the cabin again. "So where are we?"

"Some old cabin in the middle of nowhere." Finn answered. "There's that, two trees, and grass. Nothing else here."

"So . . . we don't know where we are?"

"Outside of Cyclonian boundaries," Piper said, trying to smile.

Aerrow's headache was back again, that annoying devil that Aerrow doubted he'd be able to escape for some time. But even, so they were outside of Cyclonia. Free. For the first time, _completely_ free!

Giving in to the headache, he closed his eyes and laid his head back down, smiling as did. "Close enough to home for me," he told the others.

* * *

Author's Notes: Yes, finally out of the Wastelands! I bet many of you can guess where they are.

And next chapter, we'll finally start to see more of the other characters!


	24. Chapter 23: See the Stars

Author's Notes: The time frame is going really speed up now. We're going to span months, a little more than a year, in 3 chapters.

* * *

Chapter 23: See the Stars

_We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars._

~Oscar Wilde

The second time Aerrow awoke he got a look at himself when he found a shattered mirror by the broken part of the wall. Some parts were still large enough to actually show an image, and Aerrow could see at last why his friends had such cause to worry over him; even clean, his bandage was bloodstained that first day and his head swollen for many days.

Under Piper's instructions, Aerrow did little the first week at their new abode. Every now and then, he ignored Piper's insistence and helped out where he could, and most of the time he got away with it. But every now and then, when he exerted himself too far, his head paid for it later. Piper took care of the wound, cleaning it and changing the bandage. At the same time, she would make sure Finn had something cold to put on his eye every day, usually wrapping the cold item in a cloth or bandage. Aerrow often joked about them running out of bandages. Piper didn't think it was funny.

There was always something to do around the place during and after Aerrow's recovery. The nearby terras had been raided by Cyclonians, and they never saw anyone who gave them more than a passing glance. It made all of them sick to see the desolate places and often brought back painful memories, but it provided a reliable source of food and fuel. They also took any wood they could get their hands on; they had decided they were going to repair the cabin.

After seeing the place from far back, Aerrow could see that a pathway led from the lower part of the terra up to the cabin. A tree was beside the path on the other end. The cabin sat under a humongous willow tree that seemed to shelter the collapsing house. It was so wide that its trunk dwarfed the side of the cabin that faced it.

It was this wall that had fallen in. Piper suggested that in their building, they should probably be build up against the tree, making it one of their walls. It would steady the building and mean less wood used in the long run.

The amount of Cyclonian activity in the area made Aerrow nervous, and he knew the others didn't like it, either. That's when he made the suggestion that they build lookout platforms within the willow's great branches. He also thought they should build a circular fort around the cabin.

"A fort?" Finn had asked. "That's gonna take _work!_"

"It _is_ a good idea, Finn," Piper pointed out.

Finn groaned.

Thankfully water was available to them in abundance . . . relatively, anyway. There was a well by the cabin where they drew drinking water, used to wash their clothes, and also for something that had been unheard of by them for some time: bathes. Having a warm bath was such a wonderful thing! Oftentimes when one of them took a bath was when the other two would wash that person's clothes.

Work was broken up with moments of play, especially after Aerrow was off Piper's appointed bed rest and no longer suffering from headaches. Finn would often initiate it by throwing something at the other three or tackling Aerrow to the ground. Piper would be in on their games of chase and tag, but she only looked on disapprovingly at the wrestling matches between the two boys, in which Radarr would join on Aerrow's side.

One day Finn and Radarr came out of the cabin while Aerrow and Piper were taking a break. "Hey, look what I found!" Finn called to them.

Aerrow and Piper turned around to look at him, not sure what to expect.

Finn held up his prize. "A soccer ball!" he exclaimed.

Piper frowned. "It's flat."

Finn looked at his sad excuse of a ball. "Yeah, well, that's where Radarr comes in."

Radarr grinned and held up his own find. It was a bicycle tire pump.

Not long after, the four were running around playing with their newly-pumped soccer ball.

As the days progressed, the cabin saw gradual improvement. Aerrow felt a great sense of pride the day they stepped outside to admire their handiwork. The cabin finally looked like a true cabin again. It seemed thrown together with sheets of irregularly-shaped metal sheets covering it (for added protection). But Aerrow thought he'd rarely seen anything that looked so much like home.

Piper was more than excited about the new house. She went about rearranging all the items they had found within the cabin, putting the couch in the middle of the room and putting the table on the wall in front of it. They had found a working radio in the shambles, and although it didn't do them much good, they placed it on the table. She then surprised the other three by pulling out a huge map of Atmos and setting it up behind the couch. It bewildered the boys to no end. Aerrow found it cool; Finn thought it was further proof that Piper was a nerd. Radarr just looked overwhelmed.

That night, with everything finished, the four lay in the grass on their backs, looking up at the stars. It had become a sort of ritual; the first night when Aerrow was awake for, he had insisted on coming outside to see the beautiful pinpoints of light. The others had gladly joined him in stargazing. It was a luxury that most people don't think about, but for them, it had become something to cherish. In Lava Mine and the Wastelands, there had been no stars.

While they sat there that night, Piper didn't bother pointing out constellations again. She instead said, "We finished it! Can you believe it?"

"Not done yet," Aerrow pointed out. "We haven't done the lookouts or the wall."

"Yeah," Piper agreed, "the fortifications."

"The what now?" Finn asked.

"What Aerrow said."

"Oh."

They lay in silence, one thinking about the work ahead, two just enjoying the moment, and one . . . thinking about something completely different.

Aerrow and Radarr were the ones enjoying themselves. The little guy lay with his head resting on Aerrow's chest. It had been a long time since he was small enough to curl up on Aerrow's chest, and this was as close as he could get.

Aerrow looked up at the sky with wonder. He loved the stars. As he looked, it was like seeing a sea of lights that winked at him, as if holding some inner wisdom. He never thought he would miss the sight of them as much as he did while he was in Lava Mine. Stars had always given him hope and allowed him to dream.

As he peered up at the stars tonight, he couldn't help wondering if maybe, somewhere up there, his parents were looking down him. He realized now that he didn't know them at all; he couldn't even picture them. Who were they? What kind of things did they do? Would they be proud of their son if they could see him now?

Finn woke him from his reverie. The blond had turned to the others. "Ya know," he said, "we need a name to this place."

"A what?" Piper asked, taking a moment from her silent planning.

"You know," Finn said. "Something to call this. It's a terra, after all."

"What did you have in mind?" Aerrow asked.

"Terra Awesome!"

Silence.

". . . No, Finn," Piper said at last.

"Okay, let's see you come up with something better!"

Aerrow thought a moment, but he was never good at coming up with expressive and creative names. "Terra Willow?"

Finn snorted. "And you thought _mine_ was lame!"

After a moment, Piper said, "What about . . . Terra Neverlandis?"

"What?" Aerrow asked, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her.

"Neverlandis. You know, like the story of the Lost Boys."

Aerrow waited for Finn to protest. But the protest never came.

Aerrow thought of their metal-covered cabin. It was had odd-looking place to live, alright, but it was theirs. It was their own little escape, their sanctuary, a place for lost orphans like themselves where they could live lives free of bondage, of adults, of society, of war. Their own little piece of paradise . . . a place for lost souls.

Aerrow and Radarr exchanged glances. Radarr was smiling.

Sounding worried, Piper asked, "What do you guys think?"

"It's okay," Finn said nonchalantly. Aerrow guessed he liked it better than he was letting on, but he was still hurt about his choice being turned down.

Aerrow turned back to Piper, a lopsided grin on his face. "Neverlandis, then." He lay back down, still grinning. "We'll call it Neverlandis."

He couldn't be sure, but it looked as if the stars were winking at him.

* * *

Those same stars gave hope to someone else that night.

The young Wallop Junko sat alone in his room, looking out at the night. He couldn't help smiling at what had happened today.

* * *

He had been simply minding his own business, sitting beside a tree on the edge of the village and petting Minky while watching the sunset. That's when trouble had struck.

"So this is what the mighty Wallop does when he's not being a geek!"

Junko turned around on the spot, and Minky jumped into his friend's lap, feeling frightened. Dar and Redner stood in their way. "What do you want?" Junko asked, feeling frightened.

"I got tripped up today in the wrestling match today," Dar said, studying his dirty fingernails as if he were uninterested in Junko. "You were there, weren't you? You saw."

All Junko could do was nod. He had seen, in the schoolyard that day. Besides, he knew if he didn't agree, he might get punched. He was going to get punched anyway, though. He knew what was coming.

"We think it was _you_ who tripped him up!" Redner said in with a sneer.

Junko shook his head. "It wasn't me," he said in a small voice.

"Sure it was," Dar said. "I saw you."

Junko looked down. Minky had long since abandoned him. Not that Junko blamed the little guy. There was nothing he could do for Junko; all he could do was save his own skin.

Junko heard Dar approaching, and he braced himself. It was no use making Dar see reason. One of the few times Dar would beat him up is when he was venting anger over something bad that had happened to him.

Dar reached for his collar and pulled the smaller Wallop up to his own face.

* * *

Half an hour later, Junko wandered into his house. His nose was bloody, and he sported black eye.

His Aunt Eunice was in the kitchen washing dishes. She didn't even turn around when he entered the room. She just flicked an ear in his direction. "Fifteen minutes past curfew," she scolded him. "Third time this week, young man."

Junko's shoulders sagged. He quickened his pace to get past her before she saw his face. He knew he could never hide his black eye for long, but at least he could get the blood off his face before she saw him.

Aunt Eunice was a tough Wallop. Nobody ever messed with her. She wouldn't understand.

But before he left the room, Aunt Eunice called, "Have fun today, Junko?"

"Yes'm," he answered as quickly as possible.

"That didn't sound very convincing." She turned around just before Junko was able to escape. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw him. Junko stopped immediately, looking at his feet. He hadn't made it out.

"Junko," she said, taking in his appearance, "you want to tell me something?"

"No'm," he answered, looking down at his hooves.

Aunt Eunice put her soap-covered hands on her rounded hips. "Those bruises didn't appear out of thin air."

Junko just kept looking at his hooves.

Aunt Eunice sighed. "Well, come on in the other room and we'll get you cleaned up." She strode out of the room with big, confident steps. Junko followed after her, wondering how someone as weak as himself could be the nephew of someone so strong and steady. She was his dad's sister. Maybe his muscles came from his mom's side of the family.

He felt a little guilty at thinking that about his mother. He had been very young when he'd lost his parents, but on Terra Wallop, everyone was part of the clan. They made sure someone took care of him. And Aunt Eunice had been all too happy to oblige.

She was so good to him. And Junko couldn't help feeling he was letting her down.

In the bathroom, Aunt Eunice cleaned up his face. "I bet it was that boy Dar again?" she said.

Junko said nothing.

"Well, no need to tell me," Aunt Eunice said with a smile. "I _know_ these things." She stepped back and looked at his face, seeming satisfied with her work. "Oh, missed a spot." She started wiping again with the wet cloth. "Would you like me to teach that jerk a lesson for you?" she asked as she worked.

Junko's face paled. Something like that would only make things so much worse. "No," Junko answered. "His dad wouldn't like it."

"Then I'll go teach his father a lesson."

"Aunt Eunice!"

Aunt Eunice smiled daringly. She always did like a good brawl.

Junko looked away.

"Look," Aunt Eunice said at last. "The only way to get him to stop is to stand up to him."

"I can't," Junko mumbled, looking down at his feet.

"And why not?" Aunt Eunice said. "Just go up and give him a good knock on the head. Just act like you're punching through a wall or something. That's not too hard."

"_I can't_," Junko said more forcefully. He backed away, shaking his head in dismay. "I just can't."

Aunt Eunice shook her head. "Keep telling yourself that, and you never will," she said simply. And she left it that. She finished dabbing his face gently and then stood up. "There," she said, nodding with approval at her cleanup. "Much nicer. Now you go put some ice on that eye."

Head hanging down, Junko started walking out. But he stopped in the doorway and turned around. He wanted to ask her a question that he never would have asked his own father. Junko had always been a disappointment to him. But Aunt Eunice had always been honest him and never seemed disappointed in him. She was steady, kind, and firm.

"Aunt Eunice," Junko asked hesitantly, "am I . . . a loser?"

Aunt Eunice stopped putting away the medical supplies and turned to him, raising her eyebrows. "'Course not," she said simply. Her tone was not sympathetic or untruthful, just matter-of-fact. "Who told you that?"

"No one," Junko answered.

"You're top of your class in Language Skills, Math, and Wallop History," Aunt Eunice pointed out. "I'd hardly call that the works of a loser."

"But I'm failing everything else," Junko pointed out. "All the athletics and Clan Conduct."

Aunt Eunice tilted her head. Junko knew that meant she was thinking of a way to explain something. "You're no loser," she said at last. "And don't you go telling yourself so. You're just . . . different."

"Different good or different bad?" Junko demanded.

"Just different."

"So different bad," Junko grumbled, his suspicions confirmed.

Aunt Eunice sighed and shook her head. "Stop turning my words around." She put her hands on her hips, studying him as if sizing him up. "You got a good head on your shoulders, boy," she said. "That's the one thing no one can ever get for you. All your worried about is something that's fixable."

"_How?_" Junko asked. If there was some way to fix his physical handicap, he wanted to know about it. He had tried extreme exercise programs and such. He'd proven to the school coach that he could barely meet the standard, much less improve.

But Aunt Eunice was beckoning him away with her to the next room. Junko followed, still unsure about what she had in mind.

She got a box down from the shelf. It looked like a small chest, fitting perfectly in her hands. "You've seen some of the stuff I do, haven't you?" Aunt Eunice asked. Junko nodded. She moved building materials with ease and was called on alongside the men for heavy-duty work. She was also quite the fighter.

"You want to see my secret?" Aunt Eunice continued.

Junko's eyes widened. _Secret?_

Aunt Eunice held the chest in front of him and opened it. There, within its plush, cushioned inside, were two metal contraptions that were semi-circles each. They seemed to hook onto something; the straight sides had latches and clutches.

Aunt Eunice set the box down and lifted them up. "These are Knuckle Busters, Junko," she said. "See, they go on like this." She slipped them onto her huge palms, fastening them onto her wrists. "And then . . ." she continued. She let actions finish her sentence; she swung the Knuckle Busters over the backs of her hands, slamming them against each other. They immediately lit with green crystal light.

Junko watched all this in wonder. He'd seen Aunt Eunice wear these before, but he'd never thought much of them. "What do they do?" he asked.

She smiled. "They make you stronger."

"_Stronger?_" Junko asked incredulously, a wide smile spreading across his face. _Amazing!_

Aunt Eunice deactivated the Knuckle Buster. "These Busters have been in our family for generations," she said. "I was about your age when your grandfather passed them on to me." She took them off and held them up to Junko. "And now I give them to you."

Junko stared at her in shock. "To _me?_"

"I got another nephew?" Aunt Eunice teased. "Yeah, I mean you. I think you're old enough for them."

Excitedly Junko grabbed the Knuckle Busters and cradled them. Oh, they were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen!

"Go ahead," Aunt Eunice urged him. "Try 'em out."

Smiling up at her, Junko slipped the Knuckle Busters on and carefully, hesitantly, got ready to swing them together. Then, taking a deep breath, he activated them.

Oh, the feeling was wonderful! The power tingled in him. He felt like his airways had opened up, like he could gulp in gallons of oxygen with ease. His muscles almost felt like they were swelling. He'd never felt better.

Junko looked around eagerly to try them on something. The couch in the living room probably weighed about half of what the boulder in the park had weighed, the one Dar had told him to lift. If he could lift the couch, maybe he could lift the boulder.

Junko went over to the couch, staring at it. Then, taking a deep breath, he went to lift it.

The couch almost went flying out of his hands. With ease Junko lifted it up to shoulder height, higher, until at last he was holding it above his head. "Look, Aunt Eunice!" he cried. "Look! I did it!"

Aunt Eunice just crossed her arms, looking satisfied. "Knew you could," she said.

Junko set the couch down and deactivated the Busters, studying them with a delighted smile. These things were the greatest things that had ever happened to him!

But Aunt Eunice had some rules. "These are family heirlooms, Junko," she explained. "Irreplaceable. I don't want you using them for anything serious until you've practiced with them a lot. And always be careful with them."

"Yes, yes, I will," Junko said, too excited to care what restrictions there were. He grabbed his aunt in a huge hug. "Thank you, Aunt Eunice! Thank you _so_ much!"

* * *

That was hours ago. But now as Junko sat looking at the stars and thinking back on it, he put a hand to his face, feeling his swollen eye. Yes, today had been a great day!

The stars seemed to be winking at him, as if sharing the secret of his new-found strength. He could see the brightest star of all shining down as if watching him. "I have the Busters now," he said. "I can do stuff now, _Wallop _stuff. Please, I just wish for a chance to prove myself."

The star was still. It didn't even twinkle.

"I want to do something good," Junko continued, "And I want people to like me." He sighed. "I wish there was someone who liked me."

The star twinkled, as if considering his wish.

* * *

Author's Notes: Aw, poor Junko! But he got his Knuckle Busters! Yay!


	25. Chapter 24: No Strings Attached

Chapter 24: No Strings Attached

_A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only thing he would regret leaving was the sky._

Kenko Yoshida

Junko had a new sense of confidence ever since the Knuckle Busters came into his life . . . even when he didn't have them. He no longer walked with his head down but held it up proudly. He got rid of the glasses eventually, thinking he looked tougher without them, despite the fact that he was farsighted without them. He actually responded when Dar talked to him and glared when he thought Dar was up to something. Dar never backed down to him, but surprisingly enough, the bully started finding better things to do with his time than pick on Junko.

Even Minky noticed the difference. It was almost like Junko's confidence was contagious to the little guy. He walked with his head up now, too, and he didn't hide as often when someone else approached.

But although no one picked on Junko anymore, he still got no respect. Everyone simply ignored him now. He was still the geek of the school who couldn't pass any athletic courses.

Due to the fact that Aunt Eunice forbade him from taking the Knuckle Busters to school. She said that would be cheating. Junko didn't want to be a cheater.

One day while he was walking down the hallways, he saw a group of Wallops clustered around the wall. He flicked an ear toward the group, trying to listen to hear if there was a fight going on—which wouldn't be unusual—but there were no sounds of angry grunts or punches or kicks or walls and lockers breaking.

Interested down, Junko walked up to the group. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing _you'd_ be interested in," a girl at the back of the group spat at him as he approached.

Junko kept coming, though. He was really curious now. If it wasn't something they thought he shouldn't see, than it was something for tough Wallops.

He was able to squeeze his way through the group so he was close enough to see the poster that they were all gazing at.

It was Cyclonian propaganda. Although the rest of Atmos was at war under the loose alliance with Atmosia, Terra Wallop remained outside Atmosia, Cyclonia, and the conflict altogether. Rarely was outside propaganda allowed, but Wallops had always respected the strong, and their chief, Thragg, considered Cyclonia to be strong. Chief Thragg didn't like Atmosia. He said they were weak and mean. Cyclonia, he said, was a brave nation, noble and true. It fought the war to be rid of the evil Sky Knight Council and its system. Under Cyclonia, there was supposed to be peace and equality for all. Master Cyclonis promised to be a much better ruler than the Council.

The poster had a kid on the front, one who wore a Talon uniform. He was smiling broadly, flexing one of his arm muscles and hold up a Cyclonian flag in the other hand. "Cyclonian Youth!" the poster proclaimed. "Only for the bravest and the strongest."

Another poster beside it had a different kid in a Talon uniform jumping at the poster, his mouth open in a battle cry and the ever-present flag clenched in his hand, while in the other he had a Cyclonian staff. "Be a hero!" the poster said. "Join a Cyclonian Youth Brigade."

"Nothing makes a boy into a man like a great battle!" another post proclaimed, this one with a kid in Talon uniform driving a Talon Switchblade. The background was red and had a large Cyclonian emblem across it.

"Look at that!" one of the Wallop boys was saying. "Can you imagine someone being brave enough to go to _war_?"

"That takes guts!" another agreed.

"And balls!" another threw in.

The girls looked insulted. "No, it doesn't!" one retorted. She growled and made her way over to him. "Take that back!"

The boy growled back. "No," he huffed.

Junko started walking away as a fight broke out and the rest of the Wallops began making a ring around the two brawlers. He was so deep in thought that he hardly heard the punches and the crumbling of the wall and the bending of the metal lockers as someone was thrown into them. All Junko thought about were those posters.

War. Someone had to be really brave to go into war. And that way he could help Atmos get rid of Atmosia forever. He could stop bad guys.

He could prove himself. He would prove how brave he was. And he would no longer be an embarrassment to his aunt. Everyone would like him. He'd be a hero! Why, with the Knuckle Busters, he could . . .

But then his shoulders drooped. No, he couldn't go to war. He couldn't leave Aunt Eunice behind and worry her. And he couldn't leave Minky.

* * *

Piper joined Aerrow one day as he sat on the hill, watching the sunset. "Another part of the wall finished!" she said.

"Yeah," Aerrow said, smiling in amusement. "At the rate we're going," he added sarcastically, "we'll be done long after the Cyclonians discover we're here!"

Piper looked down, her smile fading. "Maybe we shouldn't joke about that."

Aerrow glanced at her in time to see the look in her eyes. They all had it every now and then: a blackness and dullness of reliving frightening memories. "I'm sorry," he said. "You're right. We shouldn't joke about it."

Piper sat with him a little longer, the two falling into a comfortable silence. Finally Piper asked, "Why do you sit out here almost every day? I mean, anytime the weather's fair . . ."

"Well," Aerrow answered, "I . . . I like watching the sunset."

"Why?"

"It's pretty."

"That all? Gosh, I didn't know you were such a romantic!"

"Ha, ha," he said. He started playing along. "Don't tell Finn, now. No telling what _he'd _say."

He and Piper shared a good chuckle over that before Aerrow finally went back to the topic. "No, it's just . . . I'm glad I'm able to see it."

Piper gave him a sympathetic glance, and Aerrow instantly regretted telling her that. He didn't want sympathy.

Piper looked at the ground and then back at Aerrow. "What . . . was it like?"

"Hmm?" Aerrow turned away from the horizon to meet her eyes.

"I mean . . . in the prison."

"You've asked this before," Aerrow reminded her. "You get the same answer: dark, hot, tiring, and the food was nasty. Oh, and it smelled bad."

Piper rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean," she said. "What about . . ."

"Yes?" Aerrow prompted.

" . . . You took Finn's punishment once . . ."

Aerrow winced at the memory, remembering the sores on his back. That was one thing he didn't want to talk about. "It doesn't matter now," he said with finality. And it didn't. So long as he was never locked alone in a tiny, pitch-black room again, he would be fine. Aerrow could handle the dark, he could handle cramped places, he could handle being alone, or even a combination of two of those variables. But the three together triggered unpleasant memories.

Piper sighed, knowing she wasn't going to get anything out of him. "I guess you're right," she said at last. "Besides, we're home now."

Home. Aerrow tried to feel the same relief that was supposed to come with the word, but he couldn't. He had thought that fixing up the cabin and giving their terra a name would make it feel like home.

It didn't.

He didn't understand why. This was the first place he could truly feel safe; no Talons, no threats of invasion, no one giving him a beating or locking him in a cold dark room, no more life on the run, no more wondering where his next meal would come from . . .

Okay, that last part wasn't completely true. He did wonder about that. A lot. They had no place that had a guaranteed food supply. But they always found something. In fact, they even started growing their own stuff. Not that there was much success so far. The only thing they'd learned was that Aerrow and Radarr were terrible gardeners and Finn was even worse. But Aerrow felt sure they'd get something eventually. Besides, he was pretty sure Finn's problem was that he simply didn't want to eat vegetables, which is mostly what they were growing.

Beans were supposed to make up for the lack of meat, according to Piper's health standards. Finn complained they just made everyone gassy.

The wall was being put up bit by bit, circular in shape. Finn complained about this also, saying that if someone really _did_ come and attack, they would be from the sky and see the circle as that of a bull's-eye.

Piper had already thought of this, and she and Aerrow had put their heads together for a solution. "That's where you come in," she said to Finn.

"Me?"

"Yeah," Piper added. The smile on her face looked way too sweet to be nice. "You'll be the one to shoot on anyone who attacks from the air."

"_What?_"

"Relax," Aerrow assured him, clapping him on the back. "You get a splat blaster out of it."

"What the heck is _splat blaster_?"

"This." Piper gave him the new weapon to see. It was a gun . . . that shot mud.

"_Sweet!_" Finn exclaimed. And he tested it out . . . on Piper. Turns out his eye for shooting a gun was just as sharp as it was for shooting slingshots.

Aerrow didn't ask any questions when she later walked past him covered in mud, muttering something about shots hard enough to leave bruises and payback on a "certain someone."

But in Finn's defense, he has been working with Piper on her aim, at least in throwing. For Aerrow, it was amusing to see, since they often got in fights, but it also pleased him to see them getting along (which was about half the time during the lessons). And Piper had been improving drastically. At this point, it was safe to say that both of them could out-throw Aerrow and Radarr.

Speaking of Radarr, he seemed to take to the life pretty well. In the afternoons he would try to sneak away from work to sleep out on the sun, letting its warmth seep into his fur. He got quite used to playing in the cool water on a hot day, so much so that Piper started telling Aerrow that if "that little furry thing came in here one more time smelling like a wet dog and tracking mud on the floor I just cleaned," she would kick him out herself. Neither Aerrow nor Radarr heeded the threats, and nothing ever came of them.

Radarr was not alone in trying to sneak away from work to sunbathe. Finn seemed to have this idea that he should have a tan. They had found a lawn chair on one of their trips to abandoned terras, and Finn set this out outside the soon-to-be wall (so it wasn't in the shadows) and there stripped of everything but his boxers and his shades (another treasure from their trips). He seemed to have this strange idea that he should get a tan "for the ladies." Piper once blocked out his sun and asked him, "What ladies?"

Finn just lowered his shades and said, "Oh, you're right. I haven't seen any ladies around lately. None whatsoever."

After which Piper would proceed to knock over his lawn chair and chase him all over the terra. Aerrow pretended to ignore the hullabaloo until he thought it was getting out of hand and then tried unsuccessfully to calm them both down. The result ended up with Piper not talking to either of the boys for the rest of the day.

Yes, it was never boring, although compared to all that had happened before, Aerrow considered this life pretty peaceful. In fact, he felt this is the happiest he'd been in years. But he still felt no attachment to the place. He had trouble thinking of Terra Neverlandis as "home."

"Aerrow?"

"Huh?" Piper's voice drew him back to the present.

She smiled at him. "Lost you there a moment."

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. Just thinkin'."

"You can't say that and not tell me what you're thinking."

"Watch me," Aerrow said with laugh, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back to lie down in the cool grass. The hill made a natural recliner so he could still see the sunset.

"You're annoying sometimes, you know that?" Piper told him. "Now come on. Tell me what's more interesting than me."

"Don't we have a big head?" Aerrow teased.

She studied his eyes. There was a dark void there. Whatever he was thinking, he wasn't going to talk about it. Not now, anyway.

Piper sighed. "I better go start dinner, since I'm the only who cooks around here," she grumbled playfully, getting to her feet.

"Hey, now," Aerrow called after her, "we tried to take over for you one day. You said something about 'not repeating that disaster,' remember?"

"Don't remind me!" she called back, already walking away.

Aerrow turned back to the sunset. The sky was now lit a deep golden color like honey, the clouds growing pink. Soon a rainbow of colors would light across the horizon in streaks, and then everything would fade to velvet.

Such a beautiful place. Yet he felt this wasn't where he was supposed to be.

What else was he searching for?

* * *

Weeks went by, and the posters at school and around the town continued to taunt Junko. More than once he looked at them. Minky would always get a worried look on his face when Junko showed that much interest in anything that would take him away from Wallop, although Junko assured him over and over again that he wouldn't leave his friend.

But then there came the day when Minky didn't come.

Junko spent hours looking for him, walking up and down the schoolyard, peering into the bushes and behind trees, trying to see where his reptilian friend was hiding. He never found him.

Feeling dejected, Junko went home.

He stopped as soon as he came in the door.

Aunt Eunice was talking to someone in the living room.

Scared, Junko slowly crept toward the door.

"You've got to do something with him, Eunice!"

The voice belonged to the school principal, Mr. Thorp. But what was he doing in his aunt's house?

He had to be talking about Junko.

Instead of greeting his aunt, Junko took a seat in the kitchen, his ears pricked toward the living room to hear the conversation.

"What do I got to do?" Aunt Eunice asked, sounding defiant. "He'll take over the business. He doesn't need any particular strength to do that. Which he does have," she added sourly.

"Think of it, Eunice!" Principal Thorp continued. "He can't use enhancements all the time, and someday someone will challenge him. He'll have to refuse and smear his honor or accept and lose!"

Everyone knew what a lost challenge meant. Junko shivered.

"And either way, he'll disgrace the family honor."

Junko gulped.

"What do you suggest I do?" Aunt Eunice asked finally. She still sounded strong and defiant. "Disown him?"

Junko's eyes widened. _Disown _him? Could the clan really do that?

"Now I'm not suggesting anything that drastic," Principal Thorp said, "but maybe you could isolate him . . ."

"If I isolate Junko, he'll be miserable."

"If the clan lets him go, how would he feel _then?_"

Aunt Eunice didn't raise her voice. Instead her voice got lower and strangely calm. That's the way she always was when she was really angry, like the calm before the storm. "I will protect my nephew," she growled. "And no one's going to tell me how to raise him."

Junko felt like he'd almost cry with relief. Good, old Aunt Eunice!

But Principal Thorp wasn't done. "I need to see some improvement in him, then, if I'm going to recommend him for any jobs," he said. "I wish to speak with him."

"He's been through enough today without _you_ telling him he's not good enough," Aunt Eunice said with disgust. "His pet passed away today. He doesn't need any more trauma."

Junko stopped listening. Tears started come to his eyes. Minky . . . _dead?_

He couldn't imagine it. He just couldn't . . .

But he'd known. He expected this. Minky had been old, and Gleeps don't live that long.

It still took all of his control not to break down right there.

Aunt Eunice was speaking again. Trying to stifle his sobs, Junko strained to listen.

"Junko is as smart as they come," Aunt Eunice argued. "That alone should make him very valuable somewhere."

"What good is smarts if he can't back it up with strength?"

Aunt Eunice didn't answer.

Junko knew what she thought. She had said time and again that being powerful was what gets you anywhere in life.

She said that all the time. Until she adopted Junko. But that didn't mean Junko didn't know.

Minky was gone, and he was nothing but a burden and a disappoint to Aunt Eunice.

Junko went out the door before Aunt Eunice and Principal Thorp found out he was there. He ran and ran until he reached the edge of the terra and fell to his knees, crying.

He didn't know how long he stayed there just sobbing. An hour? Two? Three? It didn't matter. All he knew is that by the time he was running out of tears, the sun was setting.

* * *

When he came back home, it was already dark out. Junko hoped he hadn't worried Aunt Eunice. He would hate to have done that.

But once he got to the door, he stopped in the doorway. There was Chief Thragg.

Junko had seen the Chief before, but never had he known him all that well. Chief Thragg was brave and strong, a great leader. Junko bowed his head respectfully when he saw him, hoping there were no tear streaks evident.

Chief Thragg inclined his head to Junko, his dark gray beard swaying a little as he did. Even now indoors, he had his staff of power with him.

"Junko," he said, "your aunt has undertaken a great honor."

"What honor, Chief?" Junko asked uneasily.

"She has challenged another."

Junko stared with wide eyes. His face grew pale. He looked out the window. Night had fallen hours ago, and nightfall was the time for the ritual challenges. "And she . . . won?" he asked tentatively.

"No," Chief Thragg answered. "She received the greatest honor of all."

Junko lowered his head, willing himself not to cry. Unlike Minky's departure, this was a shocking blow. But it was not one to be regretted. Those who die in a challenge are given the highest seats of glory in the afterlife.

"But who?" Junko asked. "Why?"

"Thorp," Thragg answered. "The reason is between them."

Junko lowered his head again, fighting tears. He knew why Eunice was gone. She was protecting him, just as she had promised.

She had never said she loved him. But Junko found that day that actions speak much louder than words.

Chief Thragg patted the boy's shoulder. "Gather your things, Junko," he told him. "Tomorrow we shall take you before the clan and find you another home."

Junko's face fell. He didn't want another home. He'd finally started to feel at home here, in this house with his aunt.

Chief Thragg gripped his shoulder. "Do not lose heart, son," he told him. "On Terra Wallop, the family is the most important thing. And the family takes care of one another."

And with that, the great patriarch was gone. Junko watched him go in awe, wishing the chief would stay with him. With him, it was easier to believe everything was okay.

So Junko went to pack his things, tears falling from his eyes. But as he was putting away some of his school books, he noticed a little piece of paper sticking out of one. Grabbing it, he opened it up and saw the coordinates for the Cyclonian Youth office.

Wiping away the last of his tears, Junko stood up. _Junko is as smart as they come. That alone should make him very valuable somewhere._

Aunt Eunice was right. And Junko had a feeling he knew where.

When the sun rose on Terra Wallop, Junko was long gone.

* * *

Author's Notes: Aw, poor Junko! I made him lose Minky and Aunt Eunice all in one day! Still not as bad as all I've done to Aerrow, but pretty darn close.

But now he's on his way! Wahoo! We're getting close to where this fic meets up with the "Origins" episode!


	26. Chapter 25: Secret Hearts

Author's Notes: I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday. I was visiting with my dad.

* * *

Chapter 25: Secret Hearts

_But behavior in the human being is sometimes a defense, a way of concealing motives and thoughts, as language can be a way of __hiding__ your thoughts._

~Abraham Maslow

Things weren't turning out the way Twister had hoped.

Okay, so the food here was great. So was the living. And the Talons that patrolled the streets and took care of him, his brother, and Grimsley were all very nice, often cracking jokes with the boys and bringing home treats. He was doing very well in his training at the academy, and Grimsley assured them that it wouldn't be long before they would have a brigade ready to leave. Everything seemed to be looking up.

But Twister had no idea he'd lose a brother in all this.

Kite grew more distant, and Twister couldn't figure out why. Maybe, Twister thought, he was to blame for his brother's attitude. After all, Twister often had second thoughts about Cyclonia, and at other times he was enthused. But more often then not their disputes were over Grimsley. Both believed in following Grimsley's command, but Twister was disgusted with the way Kite seemed to have some sort of hero worship on the dude.

Twister didn't know why he did it—perhaps out of spite or just to rid himself of some frustration—but one day he took a pair of scissors to his leather jacket.

Kite walked up to him the next day. "You think a sleeveless jacket makes you look tougher?" he asked, obviously in contempt at the change.

"Grimsley seems to like it," Twister pointed out. "Isn't that what you always want? Whatever _Grimsley_ wants?"

"It doesn't look very Cyclonian," Kite growled back. "And isn't that what you want? Or do you know?"

That angered Twister like nothing else. He _wanted_ to be Cyclonian, and any suggestion against it always brought up Aerrow's words in his head and caused confusion. Taking out his frustration on Kite, he growled, "It's my style. I can do as I please."

"And if _I _decide to cut off the sleeves of my nice leather jacket?"

"You won't," Twister said with confidence.

"Why not?"

"Because then you'd be like me."

After that, Kite would avoid all manner of speaking with him if he could. And then the twins came along.

Oh, yeah, the twins. Twister didn't have anything against them _personally_. It's not like they meant to cause a further rift between Twister and his brother.

It had begun the day Grimsley had met Twister and Kite at lunch. "Hey, guys!" he greeted them cheerfully. "I brought some buddies along today! Check it out!"

Jet and Jay were identical, both with the same brown hair stuck up wildly with who knows how much hair gel. Both of them were well muscled and fit and wearing leather clothes just like Grimsley and his group did.

Although both twins seemed to want to the same thing—a war reputation and a Talon's status—and neither cared who they had to get rid of to get that, their personalities were very different. Jay talked to them enthusiastically, talking about Cyclonian heroes and fighting styles and how much he and his brother would love to join in with Grimsley. "It's not often you see a guy who knows what it's all about," he said, hinting that Grimsley did. Twister could see that his leader had already worked his persuasive charm on these boys, and by the end lunch, he was finding Jay very annoying.

But Jet was different. He was cold and didn't talk much. In fact, he avoided saying just about anything.

Twister had a feeling he was going to like Jet.

There was one thing that bothered him, though. While he was talking, Jay's sleeve accidentally fell, revealing a bruise. Jay quickly covered it up and kept going like nothing happened. But Jet had a reaction, if only just the slightest, touching a place on his chest.

Twister decided he'd never ask. It was obviously none of his business.

As the days past, the five boys became sort of a gang, and it was clear to Twister that Grimsley meant to make the twins part of their brigade. Which was fine. Maybe.

But it meant Kite finally had found an excuse not to talk to Twister at all. He was oftentimes talking with Jay excitedly, switching stories back and forth.

Jet was an okay guy. By not talking much, he never really became friendly toward any of them, but he wasn't unfriendly. You asked him to hand you something and he'd hand it to you. You asked him to help you with something, he would. He was just that sort of guy.

But one day he shocked Twister by asking, "Ever knew your parents?"

Twister, who was sitting in a chair in the holding facility, looked up at him in surprise. "What kind of question is that?"

"A question," Jet said. "You don't have to answer."

But Twister shrugged. He knew that it might seem like a personal question, but he didn't care. "I knew 'em," he said. "Once." That was all he felt like offering on the subject. The memories didn't really hurt, but they weren't pleasant, either. "What about you?" he asked Jet.

"My dad," Jet answered. "Don't live with him anymore, though."

Twister thought of twins' bruises the day they met. Pieces began falling back into place. Jay talked openly to hide how scared he was, while Jet hardened his outside so not to be hurt. It was a different response to the same action.

Though Twister never really thought his neglecting parents cared about him, they had never _beaten_ him. That was strange and new. He felt sorry for Jet, but Twister didn't know what was scarier: the fact that such a thing had happened or the fact that Twister was neither surprised nor horrified by the conclusion.

He didn't want to talk on the subject directly for fear of hurting Jet, but he did think of something he could say. "It's a brave person who can stand up strong when the devil keeps knocking them down."

Jet didn't say anything in response. He didn't have to. The fact that his jacket was sleeveless the next day said it all.

* * *

Junko hadn't known what to expect when he came to the base. Seeing the Cyclonian symbol above the door when he walked in made him feel strangely uncomfortable. In a moment of uncertainty, he thought back to the note he had left Chief Thragg before he left. He couldn't disappoint his chief.

He walked inside. The building smelled musty, like a gym that never got any air freshener. There was a Talon behind a desk in this front room. It would have looked very official if everything was filthy and broken down. The wooden counter desk looked like it'd survived half a century, even though it must have been made fairly recently.

While he checked in, some burly, pudgy boy with orange hair had come in. He held his nose in the air, and his black leather jacket made him that much more intimidating.

Junko explained where he was from and why he was there. The Talon wrote it all down, but when Junko was done, he looked up at him. "You know we can't just send you off right away, right?"

"Huh?"

"We don't assign brigades," the Talon explained. "We let kids make them themselves. We'll keep you here and train you, but we can't let you out into the field until you have an adequate team of youths to join you."

The boy spoke up then. "I'll take him in," he said. "He can be part of my group." He turned to Junko. "If that's what you would like. Wallops are tough, right?"

"Uh . . . Yeah, well . . ." Junko didn't know what to say.

He held his hand out to Junko to shake. "Grimsley," he introduced himself.

"I'm Junko," the Wallop offered, smiling as he took Grimsley's hand. He'd never been accepted by anyone so easily. He figured this boy must be a pretty nice guy.

The Talon flipped through his books. "Grimsley," he said at last. "You make up group 059."

"Yeah," Grimsley stated.

Junko wasn't sure what to think about this boy as he stood calmly by the door. Sure, he'd been friendly, but he seemed cold, and his eyes smoldered with an unwelcoming fire.

Junko scolded himself for thinking that way. He, of all people, should know better than to judge people too quickly. Grimsley would be okay.

Even though his gut told him otherwise.

The Talon nodded. "Grimsley, we'll have to talk about getting you equipment," he said. "You now have enough to make a brigade."

Junko should have been delighted to here that. He was going to be part of the brigade! But when Grimsley smirked, Junko got chills.

When Grimsley motioned him to follow him, Junko did his best to shake the feeling. He'd finally found a friend. Why was he so doubtful?

* * *

"You got another one?"

It was hours later, when Grimsley announced the decision to the others in their holding facility. Grimsley growled when Twister had said that. "We needed somebody else," he pointed out.

"But you didn't let us approve of him."

Grimsley rolled his eyes. "Come on, guys! He's a _Wallop!_ They're all tough and junk. He'll be a great addition." He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Think of it. We'll have some real _muscle_ on our team! No one will be able to take us!"

"So . . . what's his name?" Kite asked, sounding genuinely interested. Twister glared at his brother for giving in to Grimsley yet again.

"Junko," Grimsley said proudly. "And treat him good, boys. He's our ticket out of here!"

* * *

Aerrow looked up at their fortress, a smile on his face as he stood outside it. It was finished at last, the wall, the lookout, everything. There were two gates, one in the back and one in the front, both operated by a system of pulleys that Piper had set up. The back one sometimes got stuck, but they were working on it.

It had to be the strongest fortified structure in the quadrant. At least, the strongest wooden one.

Piper came up beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Still hard to believe, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Aerrow agreed, smiling. "We've built a home out of nothing."

"Really starting to feel like home, isn't it?"

Aerrow frowned at that, scrutinizing the fort. He hadn't had a real home in so long. He wasn't even quite sure what having a home would feel like. Was it some place you were supposed to feel safe in and feel attached to? If that was so, would he miss Terra Neverlandis if anything happened to it?

Aerrow searched for an answer for that, but he found no sentimental feelings whatsoever. He would be upset that their safe haven would be ruined, but he'd be just as happy with any other haven.

But if anything happened to this haven, at least they had a backup plan. He looked over at their Switchblade. He hated the idea of owning anything Cyclonian, but it sure was useful.

* * *

Okay, it _was_ useful.

Until that storm.

Aerrow was never the kind of guy to be scared. He was normally too busy focusing on how to get out of a bad situation to have time to be scared. But that's probably because normally he was the one getting into trouble.

Not this time.

Finn and Radarr had been going to get supplies, since it was their turn and the group tried to preserve what little they had as much as possible. The day had been clear and sunny, the kind of day that made Aerrow want to kick the soccer ball around.

But later, while he was cleaning some of their blankets and hanging them out to dry (it was a girl's job, but you do what you got to do), Piper came out and started helping him, looking at the sky apprehensively. "I hope Finn and Radarr get back soon," she said.

Aerrow grinned. "I've never heard you wish to spend _more_ time with Finn. I thought you'd be celebrating his absence."

But Piper didn't return his smile. "Aerrow, have you looked at the sky?"

"I . . ." Aerrow trailed off, looking up. Piper was right. There were some pretty ominous black clouds on the horizon. "They're a long way off," Aerrow said, although he didn't like the sight, either.

"Long way off," Piper agreed. "But heading toward us. See? You can see the top billowing in our direction."

"Oh." She was right. Why was she always right?

Aerrow shrugged. "They shouldn't be too much longer. They've been gone awhile." But as he looked at the thick storm clouds again, he thought he saw the far-off flicker of lightning, and his blood ran cold. The worst part was that the storm was coming from the same direction Finn and Radarr had headed when they left. If they didn't hurry, the storm would catch them before Aerrow and Piper even felt a drop of water.

The two didn't say much to each other after that, but it was clear that they spent the next hour worrying. Aerrow couldn't sit still, always finding something to do. And when he couldn't, he would pace. He knew Piper was worried because she didn't scold him or make comments about how he was "going to wear a hole in the ground." Instead, she sat quietly on the ground, watching the sky. Neither spoke nor attempted any entertainment. Even the soccer ball remained untouched.

Then it hit. The skies opened up above them, forcing Piper and Aerrow to run to their house and take cover. Finn and Radarr never showed up.

All the while they sat in the house listening to the storm outside, hoping to see Finn and Radarr stagger in the door any moment now. Aerrow got a fire going, and Piper sat on the couch, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. Once the fire was taking hold, Aerrow went and sat next to Piper. "They'll show up," he assured her.

"I hope you're right," Piper mumbled.

Aerrow tried to smile at her. "When have I ever been wrong?"

Piper raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah," Aerrow said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't answer that."

They were quiet again. Aerrow glanced at Piper. She looked so distressed that it hurt. And all he could do was sit there unable to comfort her, not knowing if his other friends were alright, unable to help them if they weren't. There had definitely been helpless moments in his life before, but this was one of the worst.

Piper glanced at him. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but her expression seemed to soften, like she pitied him. Which only made Aerrow feel worse.

She had just opened her mouth to say something when they heard a crash.

Both of them leapt to their feet. Aerrow's wide eyes met Piper's. "You think . . . ?"

But Piper just grabbed his hand. "Come on!" She dragged him out the door into the pouring rain.

The rain was cold, ice cold. Which made sense; it came from the north. It seemed to pelt Aerrow's skin like little needles. He was never so thankful for his blue-and-red leather suit.

Lightning crackled straight overhead with the large boom of thunder, so loud that it felt like Aerrow's ears were exploding. The storm was directly overhead. Perhaps the crash had only been the thunder . . .

It was dark, so dark that Aerrow could hardly see Piper, who couldn't have been more than a few feet in front of him. He could see her looking around, but she didn't see anything.

Maybe whatever it was crashed outside the wall of the fort. Aerrow went to the gate pulley to open it, and he and Piper slipped outside with Aerrow on her heels.

Now the rain was really coming down on them without the willow to protect them. Aerrow was completely drenched in two seconds flat.

They searched through the darkness, staying close together for fear of losing each other and not being able to find their way back to the gate. But then Piper started shouting and pointing. The pounding of the rain and the rumbling of dying thunder drowned out all sounds, and Aerrow had to strain to hear her.

"Over there!"

Aerrow followed her finger, and he could just barely make out a small shadow coming closer to them. Then lightning flashed overhead again, and the moving thing could be seen clearly in the light for less than a second. But that was all Aerrow needed. He knew the thing anywhere. "Radarr!" he shouted, running to meet his friend halfway.

Radarr ran up to him, screeching. He was shivering, his fur just as soaked as Aerrow's clothes. But he wouldn't allow Aerrow to pick him up and shield him. Instead, he danced in front of him, screeching, pointing off somewhere with frightened eyes.

Aerrow didn't understand exactly what Radarr meant, but he knew something was not right. Because someone was missing. "Where's Finn?" he shouted over the rain.

Radarr pointed more forcefully and then scampered off, running off in the direction he had come. Aerrow stumbled after him, trying to keep up. Piper followed.

Up ahead Aerrow saw a dark lump toward the edge of the terra. As soon as he recognized it, he froze, almost falling on his face from sliding on the wet ground.

It was a wrecked Switchblade.

Oh no.

Aerrow thought his heart had jumped into his throat. Finn couldn't be . . . "Finn!" Aerrow shouted, jumping toward the Switchblade. "Finn!"

"Down here!"

Aerrow hardly heard the voice over the rain, but he did here it nonetheless. Breathless, he fell to his knees beside the skyride, overlooking the drop off at the edge of the terra.

There was Finn, hanging some two feet below, clinging to the edge. He looked up at Aerrow, and though Aerrow could hardly see his eyes, he knew he was giving him a pleading look.

Piper was beside Aerrow now, looking down, too. "Hang on!" she shouted to Finn.

Finn made some response. Aerrow caught only about every third word, but it was something like, "No, Piper, I planned on _not_ doing that!"

Honestly, now was not the time for that kind of sarcasm.

Piper started getting up and pacing the ledge, trying to think. But Aerrow remained frozen. All he could do was stare at Finn and picture him falling. The thought made him shiver.

He'd never felt more scared.

Then Finn's fingers slipped. He was going to fall. Aerrow knew it the second before Finn lost his hold.

What happened next was totally instinctual. Really, it was.

Before he had time to think, Aerrow found he was throwing himself over the edge, clinging to the edge of the terra with one hand and grabbing hold of Finn's hand with the other.

Aerrow hadn't thought that one through. Which meant he never considered the fact that Finn was heavy. Much heavier than Aerrow would have liked.

And now Aerrow was no better off than Finn had been just moments before. But at least he caught Finn. And it wasn't like he was hanging below the edge. If Aerrow let go of Finn, he'd have no trouble hauling himself back up. But he wasn't about to do that.

Now that Aerrow was involved, he didn't have time to be afraid anymore. Which meant he could think. "Piper," he shouted, "rope!"

"There's nothing to secure it to!" Piper pointed out.

Well, that wouldn't work.

Aerrow felt his fingers slipping . . . on both the ledge and on Finn's hand. Everything was wet, and it was making it that much harder to grip. They wouldn't last much longer.

Thunder rumbled over them as lightning streaked again. But this time _it struck the willow tree!_

The tree was in little danger. The rain quickly put out the fire. But the shockwave was another matter.

The force of the blow shook the entire mountain. Aerrow used every ounce of strength o keep his grip on the edge and on Finn. Piper was thrown sideways, and Radarr had to scramble to keep from falling over the edge. The skyride rocked and began to tilt.

Aerrow's eyes widened. The Switchblade was falling . . . and it was going to hit them!

The adrenaline gave Aerrow the strength to lift Finn up until he was almost shoulder to shoulder, all in less than a second. But the strain caused his hold on the terra to slip even more until only his fingertips held on.

Finn's fright did the rest. Finn thrust himself up, catching hold of the edge of the terra and heaving himself up.

At that moment, Aerrow lost his handhold.

But Finn returned the favor. He grabbed Aerrow's arm at the last minute, swinging him clear of the falling skyride and hauling him up.

Once they were both up, they collapsed, heaving as the adrenaline ran out of them. Aerrow didn't know about Finn, but he felt absolutely exhausted.

But then Piper and Radarr were there, shaking them, urging them to their feet. "Let's go!" Piper shouted. "We gotta get out of the storm!"

The two boys staggered up and followed Piper and Radarr back into the fort and into the house. Once inside, all four of them huddled around the fire, trying to get warm.

But Aerrow didn't just tremble from the cold. He trembled from the whole experience. He had been so close to losing his friend . . .

He glanced at Piper and Radarr. Her face was drawn tight, and Radarr seemed to have curled in on himself. The two must have had it a lot worse. They had almost lost _both_ of the boys.

But they all depended on him. He couldn't let them down.

Aerrow made a decision right there. He would never freeze up again when he was scared. And he would never let his friends see just how scared he was.

In the end, Aerrow was the one who spoke first. "Don't go jumping off any more cliffs, okay?" he told Finn.

"Trust me," Finn answered, "I don't plan on it."

Piper turned to Aerrow and raised an eyebrow. "What?" Aerrow asked.

"Hypocrite," Piper grumbled.


	27. Chapter 26: The Bird Men

Author's Notes: This chapter will transition straight into Episode 46, "Origins."

* * *

Chapter 26: The Bird Men

_Raise a banner on a bare hilltop, shout to them; beckon to them to enter the gates of the nobles._

~Isaiah 13:2

"Now what?"

It was Twister who asked. The Cyclonian Youth Brigade 059 had been on its own now for a few weeks, almost a month now. And so far nothing had changed much.

They had been given bikes by the Cyclonians. They were so pitiful that Twister hardly called them bikes. They didn't even have engines! And no one had ever told him how tiring it was to pedal all day. The Talons had said that this way they wouldn't ever need fuel. If he was talking about for the bikes, he was right. But it did mean they boys needed a lot more fuel for themselves. They burned calories like crazy. Especially with Grimsley and Junko hogging everything.

They had brought adequate supplies and could always go back to the base for more, but it drove Twister crazy to see how often they had to do that. Junko was a nice guy, and he was a Wallop, so he did require more food than the rest of them. And he would share. Still, it was annoying having to feed him.

But like always, it was Grimsley who was getting on Twister's last nerve. Their pudgy leader still ate way more than his fair share. He almost ate as much as Junko. And it all went to his middle.

Grimsley turned to Twister, scowling at the question. "You know what," he retorted, talking to him like he was stupid.

Yes, Twister did know. Their mission: to conquer a terra. Then they could be Cyclonians.

Yeah. Just take over a whole terra. No sweat.

"I meant, what do we do _now_?"

Grimsley didn't answer.

"You don't got a clue."

"Sure I do," Grimsley answered angrily. "We'll keep flying until we find a place to stop. We'll fuel up when we need. When we find a terra we can conquer, we conquer it. Simple as that."

Yeah, simple as that. Twister thought for sure there must be more to it, but he didn't know what. And the others seemed convinced that Grimsley knew what he was doing, even Jet. Who was Twister to speak out?

But Junko felt uneasy about the whole thing. His gut kept twisting uncomfortably at the word _conquer_. "We're not going to hurt anyone," he said hesitantly, looking to Grimsley ". . . will we?"

"Only if they don't surrender," Grimsley answered.

Jay grinned at Junko. "Don't worry," he said. "You'll get to throw some people around, I bet."

Junko gulped. That was exactly what he _didn't_ want to hear.

* * *

Days on Terra Neverlandis were so peaceful, so wonderfully placid. There was little to tell. Aerrow spent his days playing his old games of wrestling with Radarr and Finn and listening to Piper yell at them and then joining everyone in a game with the soccer ball.

There was always work to be done. Their very existence depended on work, tending their garden and drawing water. Sometimes they were even lucky enough to make a catch on some bird, but such times were rare. Chickens sometimes got in every now and then—Aerrow had no idea how—but they were never afraid of humans, and they were easy to pluck up. But oftentimes they got so fond of the chickens that they didn't have the heart to eat them.

All and all, Aerrow found it to be one of the happiest and most dissatisfying times of his life all at once. He was among friends in a place that was safe and warm, where he could play and laugh all day. But he always felt discontented, like he should be something else, something more productive. This life was not rewarding for him the way adventuring alone with Radarr had been, and he longed for such a life again . . . a longing he kept between himself and Radarr.

But there was one thing that made him feel more attached to the place. The other day Piper had been digging through an old trunk in the cabin and found something. "Hey!" she had called to the boys excitedly. "Look at this!"

When they came running in, she proudly held up a white flag with the Storm Hawks symbol on it.

Aerrow had stopped dead in his tracks. The flag had triggered something, a distant memory just out of his reach, something he had forgotten to remember.

He stepped forward cautiously and took it. Ever since the Storm Hawks united the terras in that one fateful charge against Cyclonia, the free terras under Atmosia had made it into their unofficial symbol of resistance against the Cyclonians and of a world of peace and unity.

Maybe that's why he had felt linked to the flag, Aerrow thought to himself, tightening his grip on the fabric. This was the symbol of everything he believed in.

He turned to Piper. "Think we should hang it up?" he asked.

The four of them erected a makeshift flagpole at the top of the willow tree. And there it stood, like a beam of light above their terra.

That alone made Aerrow feel more like he belonged.

The days were filled with more than just that. One of the favorite games for the group to play had been the game "Sky Knight." Aerrow often got the role of the Sky Knight while Piper made out the plans for their adventures. Finn was happy so long as he got to shoot stuff.

But sometimes the game "Sky Knight" was more than just game. In it, they went through safety procedures in case of invasion of their terra. They had their own set of whistling signals, post positions, weapons, checks, etcetera.

For Aerrow, "Sky Knight" gave him a chance to go on those adventures he longed for, at least in his imagination. It was one escape from the boredom he found in his life here.

But the longing to wander was in him. And of course, he had to live up to that "be careful what you wish for" phrase . . . for the day came when adventure would come knocking on his door.

And it all began the night a large, mysterious bird perched on the branches of the tree at the base of the hill.

* * *

That same night, Twister staid a distance away from the terra as he gazed it with his binoculars.

"It's perfect!" Jay said excitedly. "Isn't it, Grimsley? It looks like there's hardly anyone there! And their place is wooden! We'll take 'em in a heartbeat!"

But Twister's gaze had fallen on something. "They have a Storm Hawks flag."

"A what?" Grimsley demanded. "Let me see!" he snatched the binoculars from Twister.

Junko gazed back and forth between the two of them. The Storm Hawks were the ones who resisted Cyclonian a long time ago, he knew, taken down by the Dark Ace. So, if these guys had a Storm Hawks flag, then that was bad . . . right?

But when Grimsley lowered the binoculars, he had on his wicked smirk that Junko had come to dread. "That's even better," he said. "They're resisters." He turned to the others. "Boys," he said, "it's time to take down some rebels and show them what it means to be Cyclonian."

Twister's words chilled him . . . not because he was opposed to them, but because of a view he just caught in his binoculars. It brought back a memory of night over a year ago in a dark prison. "Grimsley," he said, "you're never gonna guess who's there."

Grimsley took the binoculars again. His jaw dropped. "I don't believe it!" he gasped. There, right in sight of the binoculars, was _Finn_ holding a couple of thumbs up. "It's Blondie! He made it out of the Wastelands!"

Junko looked around at the rest of them in confusion. Who's Blondie?

The twins looked just as bewildered and confused as he was, but Twister looked downright shocked, and Kite seemed to be thinking on it. "If he's there," he said, "then wouldn't . . ."

Grimsley scanned the terra with his binoculars, passing over a girl who was a stranger to him sitting in a lawn chair only to rest upon a boy doing some fancy footwork with a soccer ball. And this boy _was_ familiar. But he shouldn't have been there. There was absolutely no way. He wasn't even supposed to be alive.

But there he was.

Grimsley put down his binoculars. "Looks like Aerrow's set up a nice little fort for us to cut down," he said. "And he got a girlfriend while he was at it."

Junko didn't like the way Grimsley said that boy's name, as if he was a wolf picking out the fattest sheep of the flock. "Who's Aerrow?" he asked.

Grimsley turned to him, laughing. "We'll tell you about _him_," he said. "Right now, let's go get ready. We strike at dawn."

* * *

Aerrow and Radarr were out in the morning just scouting the area (Piper always insisted that was necessary, and Finn was too lazy, so the honor fell to them) when Radarr stopped and pricked an ear off toward the east, one paw lifted in the air.

Aerrow stopped, knowing it was always good to listen to Radarr's senses. "Radarr," he asked in a hushed voice, "what is it?"

For the longest time, Radarr made no effort to answer. Aerrow's heart rate began to quicken as he, too, listened for a sinister sound, his eyes scanning back and forth for anything at all.

That's when he saw them: six skyrides approaching. They weren't anything, really, just peddle bikes. But they seemed to be zooming in their direction.

But Aerrow couldn't believe the face he saw leading the way. "_Grimsley!_"

Grimsley had his knife out, holding it high in the air. Aerrow was rarely afraid of a bully, but he reminded himself that right now, Grimsley was an enemy Cyclonian, not just some nasty bully. And he had a bike, a knife, and a posse.

Aerrow and Radarr had nothing.

Grimsley met Aerrow's eyes across the expanse of sky separating them. Grimsley's eyes were filled with malice but also with the confidence that he was the one with the upper hand.

Grimsley stopped just a short distance away from him, as if aware Aerrow was on the verge of running. "Aerrow," he growled.

"Grimsley," Aerrow answered back.

Neither of them spoke at first. Then Aerrow said, "I guess you're a Cyclonian now."

Grimsley smirked wickedly. "Soon to be Talons, too," he said. "And you. Got out of the Wastelands."

Aerrow's eyes searched over the group. Two of them looked so alike they could be twins, or at very least brothers. One of the boys was a Wallop . . . a fact that did not make Aerrow comfortable in the least. But the last two Aerrow knew: the brothers Kite and Twister. "I told you there was another way," Aerrow said to Grimsley, but his eyes were resting on Twister. Twister looked away with a snarl on his face, as if ashamed but holding steady to his choice.

"No," Grimsley answered back, drawing Aerrow's attention back to him, "there isn't."

Aerrow tensed. He knew something was about to happen, feeling the electricity crackle between them like lightning. And he was unashamedly ready to flee. It would be stupid to stay here and pick a fight against these odds. "What do you want, Grimsley?" he demanded to know.

Grimsley absentmindedly played with his knife. "Just your terra," he said. "Surrender to Cyclonia, and maybe we won't hurt you."

Anger boiled within Aerrow. "Give up our home to _Cyclonia?_" he cried. "You're crazy!"

"And you've got a death wish," Grimsley said. "Always have."

"I will _never_ surrender to Cyclonia!"

"Very well," Grimsley said. He raised his knife. "Boys, get him!"

Aerrow only had time for one thought: _Good thing we built the fort._

Then he was off and running.

Okay, he would admit it. He screamed at least twice on his way up the hill every time the bikes got closer to him. Radarr joined him in a frightened screech.

But Grimsley was determined for this to be a quick victory. "Don't let him get away!" he shouted over his shoulder.

Aerrow heard Radarr squawk a warning, and he looked over his shoulder in time to see Grimsley getting closer. His heart was beating a mile a minute; he couldn't imagine what would happen to him if he were caught. Luckily, he had almost reached the top of the hill, the fort, and the weeping willow. "Piper! Finn!" he cried desperately. "Open the gate!"

Woken from his daydream, Finn peered out the watch tower at Aerrow's yell with a, "Huh?" It couldn't be. It couldn't be _Grimsley_! But it was.

But then Finn let out a chuckle. Aerrow been right when he said they should be ready with defenses. Now Grimsley and his gang didn't stand a chance. He whistled up the guard tower where Piper sat.

Piper looked up in time to see the trouble, too, and for a moment, she froze. She had truly hoped they would never have to use the fort. But now the time had come. She pulled on a lever, and the gate on the front began to lift up to allow her two approaching friends passage, hoping they'd get there before their pursuers did.

Aerrow was getting tired, but his hope was renewed at the sight of the gate opening. "Almost there," he chanted to himself and his furry friend. "Almost there!"

Radarr screeched and scurried ahead under the gate. And then Piper was closing it again, to be sure the Cyclonians did not get in. "Whoa!" Aerrow shouted when he saw his chance of escape slipping away. At the last moment, in desperation, he slid under the gate on his belly just before it closed, startling up a group of chickens that had gotten in.

The Cyclonian Youth Brigade had landed their rides and had been cycling after the boy, but now they saw that they wouldn't be able to turn before the gate. "Whoa!" Junko yelled.

Inside, Aerrow and Radarr winced as they heard the riders collide into it.

But that didn't deter Grimsley. He got to his feet with a growl and pointed toward the fort. "Time to choose sides, Aerrow!" he called.

But now, safe inside his fort, Aerrow was not afraid. "We did," he shouted back to Grimsley, "the day Cyclonia destroyed our terras and our families! We choose the Sky Knights!" he said, pointing to the flag at the top of their tree to prove it. "So if you think we're givin' up our home, you're crazier than you look!"

But Grimsley wasn't _too_ crazy. He turned to Twister, Jet, and Junko and motioned them to go around back, where they had spotted the gate before. Twister was getting more and more used to following Grimsley's orders, and he was proud to be picked to be one of the ones to flank them. He led the way around back.

Junko didn't go at first. He didn't want to be part of a raid. He didn't want to hurt a group of harmless kids. But more forceful pointing from Grimsley finally made him comply. The lot of them tiptoed around.

Grimsley turned around to Jay and Kite. "Only way to earn our wings and become real Cyclonians," he reminded them, "is to take this terra."

No sooner had Grimsley said that when he was hit by three mud balls, and then his ears were met with laughter. He turned around in time to see Finn up in the willow with his splat blaster on his shoulder, which was loaded with mud. "Why don't ya take _that?_" Finn called to him tauntingly. He saluted him playfully and gave him his signature phrase, "Chica-cha!"

Well, apparently Grimsley didn't like that at all. He drew his knife and let out a battle cry, charging the gate as he did so. But the only result, much to Aerrow's and his friends' amusement, was he shook the gate and fell back with a wounded sigh.

Aerrow turned to Piper, who had come down from the tower and held a sheet of paper in her hands. They had easily fallen into their "Sky Knight" roles. Aerrow crossed his arms now and smiled, feeling like the important Sky Knight he acted as. "Piper, what's our status?" he asked.

Piper pointed to her paper. "We got the sky covered with our splat blaster," she answered Aerrow confidently, "and the only way in on the ground is through this gate and . . ." She pointed a thumb behind her as she tapered off, her smile falling. She grimaced. "Oh no."

Oh no? It was never good when Piper said, "Oh no," in a situation like this! "Piper?" Aerrow asked testily, trying not to let on how much that worried him.

Piper rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "Yeah, you know that back exit hatch that sometimes gets stuck?" she pointed, her voice rising to a whimper in her nervousness.

The back door was open. _The back door was open! _With his heart beating a mile minute, Aerrow ran to the door with Radarr scampering on all fours at his side.

But before they could get there, they were stopped by three robed figures who stood before the back door. Aerrow and Radarr drew up with a surprised gasp and raised an eyebrow at them. How in the world had they gotten in? Who were they? And, most importantly at the moment, whose side were they on: Cyclonia's or theirs?

Aerrow studied the figures. They were three men, it seemed, although he had a hard time being sure about the gender when they were in those well-decorated, hooded robes that made them look like fairytale magicians. One of them wore a black and purple robe, and his face was masked by his hood, the end of his hood ending in a point not far from his pointed beard. One wore a robe that was silver and had light blue-gray bordering. His beard went around his entire face, joining his hair under the hood. There was an excited look on his face. The last had a copper-colored robe bordered with gold. He had no beard like the others, but he had a mustache.

Aerrow should have screamed or shouted or _something_. But he'd been through enough already that even this couldn't freak him out completely. But it did confuse the heck out of him.

The cloaked figures returned his stare. Finally the one in the silver cloak spoke. "Glory be!" he exclaimed, looking Aerrow over. He turned to the others with a smile. "A strapping young lad, don't you think?"

"Huh?" Aerrow gasped, too surprised to speak. A hint of a smile was on his face. A strapping young lad? Were they talking about him?

The masked one didn't look at him so fondly. "Looks a little skinny," he answered the silver one in a huffy tone.

Aerrow felt his stomach, to which hunger was not uncommon company, and realized the masked one was right. But that's not something Aerrow felt should be pointed out about an orphan who had to make it on his own and take care of other orphans. And true, he was scrawny, but he was far from weak. But he was too amazed and astonished to take much offence. He simply asked, "Well, who are you?"

"We bring great news!" the silver one answered him.

Aerrow covered his face with his hand. He just didn't have time for this! "Unless it's news that you're helping," he said, marching up to them to move them aside so he could get to the door, "I don't care."

But the silver one ran right up to him, getting right in his face and making Aerrow lean away. "Don't you understand?" he asked him, putting his hands on his shoulders. "You are the last descendent."

Meanwhile, Twister and Jet were busy dragging a log to the gate and wedging it underneath the gate to try and lift it up. Junko, still reluctant to be here, only stood by and watched.

The silver-cloaked figure still kept Aerrow from getting to the door. "You must find the ship," he instructed. He went around behind Aerrow. "You must rebuild the team," he went around in front again, "and fulfill your destiny!"

Aerrow only stared at the man, trying to decide whether the stranger was crazy or he himself was going crazy. What in the world did he mean by the "last descendent"? What ship? What team?

Behind Aerrow, down at his feet, Radarr crouched low, glaring at the strange man and growling. _He_ was convinced the stranger was crazy.

Then the gate beyond them rattled as the Cyclonian boys finally made some progress on it. Radarr whimpered a warning. Then there was a Wallop roar, and the gate was blown in, completely broken off. Aerrow could only stare in amazement, wondering how they managed that. Three boys peered in, one of them being the Wallop. Well, that answered Aerrow's question.

The silver figure then handed Aerrow a golden rod with a cap shaped like a raptor bird's head. "Everything you need is in here," the stranger said. He backed away from him with an honorable bow, saying, "Good luck, young warrior."

Aerrow saw now that the three cloaked men felt to leave. "But wait!" he called to them desperately. "Uh, come back!" But before his very eyes, the men shift-shaped into large predatory birds with hooked beaks that had dark purplish plumage on their bodies, navy necks, puke green heads, neon green beaks, and wingtips the color of flames . . . exactly the same bird that had been perched on a branch in the tree down the hill last night.

Once they transformed they took to the air, their piercing eyes never looking back. But Aerrow still called to them desperately, "Aren't you gonna—"

But they disappeared into the sky.

"—help?" Aerrow finished in a fearful breath.

He turned to the scowling Cyclonians and cringed. The three Cyclonian boys were heading toward him with Junko in front, who was punching his hand into his fist threateningly. "H-hey, come on," Aerrow laughed nervously, holding up his hands and backing away. "We can work this out."

But Junko soon had Aerrow in his grasp, Radarr tried to jump in to help, growling viciously and snarling at him, but Twister hit the little guy over the head and then scooped him up in a sack.

Grimsley soon appeared through the back door. "Not so tough now, are you Aerrow?"

Aerrow glared at him and snarled. But there was nothing he could do as Grimsley grabbed his arms behind him and held him, sending the rest of his boys to catch the others.

Twister was the one left with Grimsley to guard Aerrow and hold Radarr in the sack. Again, he refused to meet Aerrow's eyes. Aerrow sent him the most withering glare he could.

Grimsley grinned at Aerrow. "Don't worry," he said. "I got just the place for you!"

Aerrow scowled, with only one thought in his head: _Those dang bird men!_


	28. Chapter 27: A Destiny

Chapter 27: A Destiny

_For every soul, there is a guardian watching it._

~The Qu'ran

While Junko grabbed Finn, Jet, Jay, and Kite had a time with Piper. She gave them a little in the face, a little in the legs, and had about taken them down when Junko beat his hoof against the ground, causing it to shake and for her to lose her balance. Then the other three boys had no trouble grabbing her, and from then on it was just a matter of holding her. They led two to where Grimsley stood holding down Aerrow and Twister held a moving sack.

Piper didn't know what to think or really had any idea what was going on. All she knew was that these boys had attacked their home and taken them captive. And this burly, fat kid who held Aerrow's arms too tightly behind his back seemed to know Aerrow. And Finn, his eyes wide, seemed to recognize the kid, too.

Piper searched through everything Finn and Aerrow had told her about their prison life. After all, that was the only life Aerrow and Finn had known together before they met Piper. This fat boy had to fit in there somewhere, didn't he?

There was something about a mean kid who had a gang and would pick on other boys. His name sounded a lot like his personality. But try as she might, Piper couldn't place the name.

Whatever it was, Aerrow should have been giving the guy one of his meanest death glares. That's what Aerrow _did_. But Aerrow looked as if he was in daze. Had he gotten hit over the head again? Honestly, at this rate he was going to have permanent brain damage!

But there was no blood, no bruise, not even a growing welt on his head. He simply seemed to be thinking about something besides the situation they were in.

Which, considering the situation they were in, was really _not_ helpful.

Two of the boys were holding Piper . . . the ones who didn't have their sleeves cut off. She kept trying to shake them off, but that only made them hold tighter to her. Finn had long since stopped fighting the Wallop and now was simply trembling in his grasp. Strangely enough, that seemed to make the Wallop even more uncomfortable.

The fat kid grinned at all of them. "We did it, boys!" he said.

That's when Aerrow finally glared at him the way Piper expected him to. He had that look in his eye with a hint of red gleaming, as if he could rip the fat boy's throat out.

That only made the fat boy twist Aerrow's arm, forcing him to knees with a painful gasp.

The fat kid grinned wickedly. "Told ya, Aerrow. Crow food. That's all you are!"

Aerrow groaned and tried to rise to his feet, but he only grimaced in pain when the fat boy tightened his hold on him again. Piper wanted to beg him to stop, but she doubted it would do any good.

She struggled against her captors again, but they held firm. She found it most unnerving that they wouldn't speak. It's as if the fat boy in charge had taken their tongues. He spoke for all of them, and that was that. Even the Wallop bended to him.

Aerrow glared at up at the fat boy again. "You're a bully, Grimsley," he growled. "That's all you've ever been."

_Grimsley_. The name was jogged in Piper's memory now. He was the guy who Aerrow had fought with in prison for trying to take Finn's food.

But if that was so, what in the world was he doing here?

Grimsley twisted again, shoving Aerrow forward. He looked up at the Wallop. "Junko," he said, "go get the cage."

"What about him?" the Wallop, Junko, asked, nodding to Finn in his arms.

Grimsley looked pointedly at the one guy not holding anyone. "You, take him," he said. "Blondie won't do anything."

"It's Finn," Finn muttered quietly, as if they'd had this conversation before.

While Jet took hold of Finn and Junko left the fort for their "cage," Grimsley turned back to Aerrow. "You had a chance to be part of this, you know."

Aerrow's eyes flashed. "Never gonna happen," he growled.

"Actually, we should be thanking you," Grimsley said smugly. "Thanks to you, we get to be Talons at last!"

The word "Talon" seemed to ripple through Aerrow, and his expression was so cold and full of hatred that even Piper was frightened. It was as if he radiated fury. Piper knew he hated anything Cyclonian, a hatred so strong that it had always surprised her, since Aerrow seemed so optimistic about everything and everyone else. Perhaps Grimsley was part of the reason. Or maybe it was simply he was transferring all that hatred onto Grimsley, as if making him embody all that was Cyclonian.

When Junko came back with the cage, he tied a rope to the top of it and then swung the rope over a branch of the willow, so that the cage could be hung up. Piper, Aerrow, and Finn were all tossed roughly inside. Then Twister opened up the sack and sent a growling Radarr rolling in after them, landing on Finn's head. The four of them groaned as they sat up, only to look over the edge as the cage was raised slowly off the ground.

"Uh!" Finn groaned in disgust. "It smells like chickens in here!"

"That's because we're in a chicken coop, Finn," Piper pointed out to him in a bratty tone as if to acknowledge his stupidity. Finn glanced up at her and gave her his "you can't be serious" look. Piper only nodded slightly. They were indeed imprisoned in a chicken coop.

Normally Aerrow would have been monitoring that "conversation" to be sure it didn't turn into a hissy fit contest. But right now, all he could think about was the three cloaked men. "If those three weird bird guys hadn't gotten in my way . . ." he thought. Then, realizing he was talking aloud, he turned to Piper and Finn. Both of his human friends looked surprised and confused. Piper even looked a little concerned. "Okay," Aerrow began with his explanation, holding up a finger, "this is gonna sound crazy."

His friends raised eyebrows waiting.

Aerrow exchanged a glance with Radarr. After all, Radarr had been there. He had seen.

Aerrow took a breath and then explained, telling them about the three cloaked figures.

* * *

Grimsley and his boys put down the Storm Hawks flag and raised a Cyclonian one, showing that this terra had been conquered.

Below the flagpole sticking out of the top of the willow, the Cyclonian Youth Brigade was in the house that Aerrow and his friends had made their home.

There was also a large teddy bear that Twister grabbed just for the heck of it. It was a weird thing to find . . . it was like it didn't belong in their world where everyone always seemed at odds with someone. But he was pretty sure it was Junko who brought it there.

He and Jay sat on the coach, which had the soccer ball sitting on it. Junko leaned on the top of the couch, while Kite and Jet stood in the back. They all watched as Grimsley used the radio, calling into a Cyclonian base.

"This is Airman Grimsley of Cyclonian Youth Brigade O five niner," Grimsley said. "We've captured Terra Neverlandis for the glory of Cyclonia. Awaiting further instructions."

There was a crackle at the end of the radio, and then a voice from it said, "_Hold on. I'll get Snipe._" Then there was a crackle, and the voice disappeared.

Grimsley couldn't believe his luck. "Oh, man!" he cheered in disbelief as he turned around to his boys with a smile. "I'm gonna get to talk to Snipe!"

All of the boys cheered . . . except for Junko. He smiled a fake smile, but even so he glanced behind him guiltily as he thought of the inhabitants of the terra who were now locked up in a chicken coop.

* * *

While Aerrow explained, questions rose in his own mind, questions he'd been wondering but was unable to think them through due to all that had been going on. The silver one had called him "the last descendent." He said he to find some ship and rebuild some team. And something about a destiny.

His friends were as bewildered as he was. They stared at him like he was crazy, and Piper even had a concerned look on her face as if she wanted to check his temperature. Only Radarr seemed to think him sane, but he probably would have thought Aerrow was crazy, too, if he hadn't been there himself.

"I'm serious!" Aerrow insisted. Radarr nodding encouragingly. "Look," Aerrow said, "they even gave me this!" He pulled out the golden rod for them to see.

Piper's eyes lit up. "Whoa," Finn gasped.

Aerrow smiled. _Now_ they would believe him!

Finn looked around. "So where'd these men go?" he asked.

Aerrow blinked at them, getting ready to lay his next fantastic fact on them. "They're shape changers."

"No way," Finn gasped.

Aerrow nodded. "They turned into these birds. They were big and mutli-colored."

Radarr pointed to the head of the rod in Aerrow's hand. Aerrow nodded, telling the little guy he understood. "They're heads looked like this," he explained, pointing to the bird head on the top of the rod, "only they weren't gold. They were green in pink and purple and yellow . . ."

"Are you sure you didn't see a flying rainbow?" Finn asked skeptically, earning him a glare from both Aerrow and Radarr.

But Piper was studying the lid of the rod. "Mynall bird!" she said.

All the boys turned to her. "What?" Aerrow asked.

"They turned into Mynall birds," Piper explained. "Haven't you ever heard of the warrior trainer Arygyn? That's exactly what he does! He turns into a Mynall bird!"

Finn raised an eyebrow. "So you mean that a bunch of guys who can _magically_ turn into Mynall birds came and told Aerrow he had a destiny? Are you crazy?"

"No, listen," Piper insisted. "There's more." Her face was vibrant with excitement, and Aerrow couldn't imagine what was on her mind. "There's a legend. A group of shape changers who try to calm the evil in Atmos. They're called the Guardians of Atmos."

"Very original," Finn grumbled.

"Don't you see?" Piper exclaimed. She turned to Aerrow. "What if the legend is true? What if the Guardians came to _you?_"

Aerrow looked at the rod in his hand. "I guess there is one way to find out . . ." he said hesitantly.

As if sensing what he was saying, Finn's face lit up. "Open it!" he said excitedly. "Go on!"

Carefully Aerrow lifted the lid off the rod and poured some of the contents in his hand. A blue crystal key that had the Storm Hawks emblem on the handle fell into his hand.

Before Aerrow had time to even comprehend what these could be, Finn snatched the key out of his hand and held it up. "Cool!" he said.

Aerrow was about to ask for that back; after all, who knew what it went to or what it could do? But he was distracted by something else he saw sticking out of the rod. He pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment. Piper leaned her head close to his to see as he unrolled it.

It was a map, of all things, and it had a picture of an airship on it at one point. Aerrow couldn't possibly fathom what any of this meant. Why would strange bird guys talk about destiny and then give him a key and a map?

But Piper, the most knowledgeable and who, in Aerrow's opinion, had the most trustworthy opinion, seemed to know. She gasped as soon as she saw the map. She placed a hand on Aerrow's shoulder and the other under the map, moving it closer to their faces. "Aerrow, do you have any idea what this means?" she said with an excited smile on her face.

"Uh, no," Aerrow answered, raising an eyebrow. Should he?

"You're the last descendent of Lightning Strike!" Piper said, poking the map. She gestured to him. "That means, by right, you take leadership of the Storm Hawks!" She gestured out to the skies. "Aerrow, you're a Sky Knight!"

"I am?" Aerrow exclaimed in surprise. He jumped in the air in shock. "Ow!" he exclaimed as his head hit the ceiling of the chicken coop.

Finn was just as surprised. "He is?" he exclaimed, only to hit his head on the ceiling, too. "Ow!"

Radarr churred, as if to say, _He is?_ Afterward, he winced and squeezed one eye shut, looking around suspiciously with the other, bracing himself for hitting his head like the other two, but it never happened.

Aerrow rubbed his head, which was throbbing, and not entirely from the blow to the head. He, Aerrow, the poor orphan, a Cyclonian prisoner escapee, a Sky Knight? And not just a Sky Knight, but a Storm Hawk, the greatest Sky Knight squadron of all. And the famous Lightning Strike's blood ran through his own veins. He stared at Piper, as if trying to believe everything she was telling him. All he could say was, "Ah, seriously?"

"Um-hmm," Piper answered.

Aerrow's eyes widened, and he smiled. "Cool!"

But Piper wasn't done with her revelations yet. She held the map up to Aerrow again. "And this map," she said, tapping the picture of the ship, "it leads us straight to the _Condor_!" She turned to him, excitement glowing in her eyes. "As in, _the Condor_!"

Of course, Piper was probably thinking of the many legends of the famous _Condor_, a great ship in its prime. It was built just for the transport of a Sky Knight squadron and had been made even more famous and great when it became the ship of the Storm Hawks. There was none faster, and although it must be over a hundred years old now and neglected for ten years, it was still the _Condor_.

However, Aerrow was only of the practical mind. He had to be, after all these years of taking care of himself, and the first thing he thought of when he thought of the ship was the assets it would give them. "With that kind of firepower," he said, his face brightening, "no one would mess with us here!"

This was his chance! He was willing to take it on: find the _Condor_, rebuilding the Storm Hawks, all of it. It all sounded too good to be true. He was not afraid. How could he be? It sounded a lot safer than the situation he was in now and quite tame compared to some adventures he'd had before. And it even made sense. Lightning Strike had come from Terra Nimbus, just like he did. And what about his outfits that he and his friends were wearing? Uniforms, of course!

But their great jubilation was interrupted by a voice that Aerrow was really coming to hate. "Guess what, worms," Grimsley said as he and his boys approached the cage. One of his boys was giving him a thumb up. When Grimsley starting speaking again, Aerrow found out why. "I just finished talking to Snipe," the Youth Brigade leader said. He raised an eyebrow at them, his eyes finding Aerrow's. "The Talon Snipe," he reminded them. He pointed to the ground. "He's coming here personally to give us our wings!" At this, he turned around to his boys and clenched his fists in anticipation.

Aerrow and Finn clutched the bars as they peered down at the Cyclonians, and Piper and Radarr peered around them. Aerrow didn't like the sound of this. Snipe was one of the worst Talons in the skies. He was a mace-wielding bully with strength to boot. And he was in charge of Terra Nimbus. Aerrow found a little ironic that the Talon commander who was now in charge of his home terra was coming to take his new terra.

"That's after we do one last thing," Grimsley continued. He slammed his fist into his hand as he smirked at Aerrow and his friends. "Get rid of you!"

Aerrow didn't even have time to be scared before one of the Cyclonian boys pulled a lever on the chain holding up the chicken coop, and Aerrow and his friends cried out in fear as the cage fell and slammed on the ground. The four of them fell forward onto the door as it opened and landed on the bars, with Piper landing on the two boys.

Aerrow had hardly gotten his bearings when he saw Grimsley standing over them, pointing to them. "And Snipe's orders," he said, "were to throw you into the Wastelands!"

All the Cyclonian boys laughed . . . except Junko, who stood in back, looking down at Aerrow and his friends worriedly. "The Wastelands?" he repeated softly in disbelief.

The Wastelands. The very world they just escaped from would be the death of them.

It was like Fate was playing some sort of cruel joke on them.

"Seriously not good!" Finn whispered.

Slowly, painfully, Aerrow and his friends got to their feet, although they all knew it would be no use trying to escape. Piper looked at the Cyclonian Youth Brigade in disbelief. "Throw us into the Wastelands?" she echoed, leaning away from them. "Not like you're actually gonna throw us off the side of the terra?" But Grimsley's smirk didn't change. "Are you?" Piper asked, her voice shaking.

Apparently that was the plan. Grimsley crossed his arms and glanced around. "Who wants to do the honors?" he asked his pals.

Finn and Piper glanced at Aerrow for help. He was, in a way, their leader. But Aerrow was at loss of what to do.

Junko put his hand on Grimsley's shoulder. "I'll do it!" he proclaimed, putting a hand on his chest.

Before Aerrow could make any sort of protest, the Wallop had scooped them up, Aerrow and Radarr under one arm and Finn and Piper under the other. They struggled against him, but it was no use. The Wallop walked to the edge of the terra, preparing to throw them over.

That's when Finn tried to appeal to the Wallop. "Seriously, buddy," he gasped to him, still trying to wiggle out of his arms, "you can't do this to the Finnster!"

_Oh, yeah,_ Aerrow thought sarcastically. _Don't worry about the rest of us, Finn. Just worry about yourself. That's all that matters._

But the amazing thing was, Aerrow noticed something (other than Finn's girly scream of terror). Junko actually seemed to be considering what Finn was saying. Aerrow used that to his advantage. He gasped as he tried to raise himself to get some air because the way the Wallop was holding him was making it hard to breath. "Do you really want to be one of them?" he gasped to the Wallop. "One of the bad guys?"

Junko raised an eyebrow at him before turning to Piper, who was held so that she was looking behind them. "Are they still watching?" he asked her.

Piper gasped as she tried to get herself into a position to lift her head to see. "No," she answered. "I bet they don't have the guts!"

Junko sighed in relief. "Oh, boy, that was close!" he exclaimed. And just like that, he set them down on the ground. They all sighed in relief as they were finally able to get all their air, and then as soon as their lungs were replenished, they scooted away, still not trusting the Wallop.

But Junko wasn't looking at them. He was looking over the side of the terra. "I really thought I'd have to toss ya over," he said, sounding relieved that he didn't.

Just to be sure, Finn asked, "So you're not gonna?" Then he crawled up to Junko and hugged his leg in, what seemed to Aerrow, a very pathetic way. "Oh, thank you!" he exclaimed, almost crying with relief.

Junko just looked down at him and raised an eyebrow.

Then Finn seemed to realize what he was doing. He released the Wallop's leg immediately and said, "I mean," he pointed pistol fingers at him, "alright, that's cool."

The group immediately knew they could not stay there in plain sight. They ran to the bushes next to the ancient willow and hid there, peering out to see two of the Cyclonian Youths standing out by their bikes as guards. Piper and Finn hid next to each other in the bushes, and Aerrow and the Wallop hid behind a tree. Radarr stayed close to Aerrow.

As they looked at the guards, Junko said, "Ah, I knew I shouldn't've gotten mixed up with Grimsley! I wanted to be one of the good guys."

Even if he had gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd, Aerrow had sympathy for him, and he felt he could trust him. He turned to him. "You still can," he said. "I'm on a mission to find the _Condor_ and rebuild the Storm Hawks!" He clenched his fist to emphasize it. "We could use your help," he added.

Junko raised an eyebrow at him. "Really?" he whispered, getting eye level with Aerrow and smiling with anticipation. "Well, take my skimmer," he said. He handed Aerrow the key. "Uh, I tricked it out myself."

Aerrow smiled at him, about to thank his new generous friend, when Junko glanced out at the guards. "Uh, hurry!" he reminded them.

Finn led the run to the skyride, with Radarr and Piper behind him. Aerrow was about to follow when he remembered one little detail: Junko. He turned back to him. "We'll be back!" he promised, clenching his fist. And with that, he ran off with the others.

Junko held up a finger. "Storm Hawks," he repeated in awe, smiling. Well, imagine that! Storm Hawks were good guys, right? They were warriors. But they protected people; they didn't hurt them.

Once Junko was sure they had escaped, he headed back to Grimsley, who was lying in an inclined lawn chair with his aviator sunglasses on, reading a magazine. He turned to Junko when he approached. "Well?" he asked him.

"They're gone," Junko answered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder and making sure to tell the truth.

Grimsley laughed and turned back to his magazine. Junko scowled at him. If his new friends succeeded, then Grimsley wouldn't be hurting anyone anymore. After all, good guys were supposed to stop bad guys, and Junko had decided that from now on, he was being a good guy.

* * *

Author's Notes: Aw, this is annoying! That entire chapter was almost exclusively from "Origins"! Going to be lot of that in the next two chapters, too!


	29. Chapter 28: Gift Horse

Chapter 28: Gift Horse

_Never look a gift horse in the mouth._

~Proverb

Aerrow and his friends were taking Junko's bike across the sky to try to find the right spot to dive. Aerrow and Finn pedaled (for there were two sets of pedals) while Piper navigated and Aerrow steered.

Piper pestered the two boys with questions about Grimsley and his gang: who were the other guys, why they were there and not in prison, you know, the basics. Aerrow answered her questioned patiently (well, patient for the most part – they did get old after awhile, and Grimsley was not a preferred subject) with interjections from Finn. To their understanding, Grimsley had chosen their terra as the terra to conquer to make him and his friends Talons, and Kite and Twister were still with him, along with the two boys who looked like twins. And Junko . . . who had betrayed the group to help them.

But soon Piper fell silent and started paying more attention to the map. Once there wasn't any conversation to distract them, Finn didn't seem really crazy about being hundreds of feet in the air on a rickety bike that was run by two boys pedaling. "Uh, are you sure this thing is safe?" he asked Aerrow, glancing downward.

Aerrow decided not to answer that, but just in case, he put his arm back to grip the rod holding up the helicopter blades for support. This arm was also close to Piper's shoulders and would catch her if she fell. Radarr was safe in the back. Finn he'd leave to rescue himself, since he made the comment.

"Off beyond those storm clouds is Cyclonia," Piper told them, gesturing her head out toward a clustered group of clouds in front of them. "This is near where the last battle of the Storm Hawks took place."

Aerrow didn't fancy flying through Cyclonia skies, but around here somewhere in the Wastelands below them was the wreckage of the _Condor_. "I'm taking us down," he told his friends. And with that, they dove below the cloud line. The cool moisture of the clouds dug into Aerrow's clothes and breathed gently on his face, but it was soon countered by a sudden gust of warm, stale air that rose up to them from below. They broke through the cloud line.

_Here we go again,_ Aerrow thought.

A great magma flow met there eyes . . . and the foul gases from the sulfuric rock smarted every other sense they had. It stung Aerrow's nose with its foul scent and put a bad taste in his mouth. He could feel the heat to the point where he was sweating and could here the hissing and crackling of the molten rock. The sight was all too familiar. "The Wastelands," he said, "worst place on Atmos." Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to being back.

Piper picked up the map and looked it over. "With this map," she said, "we should avoid most of the bad stuff."

No sooner had she said that when they all heard a screech that made Piper scream. Flying straight toward them was one of the giant bats. Its wingspan dwarfed their skimmer six times! Aerrow held his breath as it came closer and closer. They had no way to defend themselves against it. It was really kind of ironic after all they had accomplished to die here eaten by a giant bat, especially since they'd escaped these bats before.

But the bat only roared and glided around them. All of them gasped and squealed as it flew by. Much to their surprise and relief, it didn't come back. "I guess it already ate," Aerrow said.

Piper's eyes were on something else entirely. "Aerrow, look!" she exclaimed, pointing. "Down there!"

And that's when Aerrow saw the _Condor_ for the first time. Its outline was just like a black figure on the map. On either side were two large pontoon-like engines that made up most of the ship. The main body of the ship had a long runway that led to the bridge—Aerrow could see it through the large front window—that had quarters in floors stacked above and below it. In front of the bridge was an outdoor deck.

Aerrow brought them in for a successful landing, and they all got off the skyride and observed the _Condor_ some more. Then the lava began to bubble. _That can't be good,_ Aerrow thought.

Suddenly, out of the pool of lava behind where they had parked the skyride, a magma beast raised its head out of the lava. Nearly shocked out of his wits, Aerrow led his friends to hide behind some rocks, completely abandoning the skyride. The creature raised its head like a snake ready to strike and then lowered it quickly and snapped its open mouth closed on the skyride. Then it lifted its head and munched it up in two bits before swallowing it and letting out a hiss-like roar of satisfaction.

Aerrow and his friends frowned as they watched their ride disappear. "Better hope the _Condor_ flies," Aerrow said. "Otherwise, we're climbin' out."

Piper turned around to look at the _Condor_ and smiled. "That may not be a problem," she said. "It looks like it's been fixed."

Aerrow turned around to see for himself. Indeed, the _Condor_ seemed in pretty good shape for something that should have been lying here abandoned for ten years. Aerrow crossed his arms. Something was going on here. If there was one thing experience had taught Aerrow, it was that anything that wasn't difficult most likely had a consequence and that someone was out to get you. A situation like this had to be approached with caution.

But Finn didn't have any caution. "Score!" he shouted, through a fist in the air.

He was about to run to the ship when Aerrow grabbed his arm. "Finn, wait," he called. "This is too easy. It could be a trap."

Then he noticed Radarr looking down at something on the ground. "Huh?" He did a double take. Radarr picked up a string he had found on the ground. Uh oh. "Radarr!" Aerrow shouted, reaching out to him. "No!"

Radarr glanced up at him and churred questionably. He only realized his mistake too late. The line triggered a trap. Tied to the end of the line was a boulder, which was now released and swinging toward Radarr. Overcome with panic, Aerrow dived toward Radarr, knocking him out of the way just in time.

Things weren't much better them then, either. Apparently the two landed right on the spot that triggered another trap. From up around all of them rose large construction cranes that snapped at them with their grabbers. Aerrow and Radarr were on their feet as soon as possible. Piper and Finn screamed. It seemed Aerrow's suspicion was confirmed: If something seems easy, someone or something is out to get you. He had only one word of advice to his friends and himself: "Run!"

As soon as they headed off, the cranes started coming at them, smashing their "heads" into the ground where the kids had stood just before they ran out of the way. Finn was last, and he screamed girly screams as most of the cranes came at him.

No sooner had they cleared the crane trap when they triggered the next one, which shot a flurry of crystal-tipped arrows at them. "Everybody down!" Aerrow cried. Immediately they all dropped flat and the arrows flew overhead.

Aerrow lifted his head and looked around for cover, not wanting to be in the way of anymore traps. He could only see one place that provided protection. "Head for the ship!" he cried. "I see an open hatch!"

Following Aerrow's lead, they all got up and ran as fast as they could for the ship, starting their way up the ramp into the hatch. But before they could get inside, a man blocked their path. He was wearing a metal mask resembling a gas mask with two headlights on its top and holding a broom in one hand and a shield in the other. He glared at them with rage-filled eyes. "Stop right there!" he ordered, pointing his broom at them threateningly.

Aerrow and his friends froze and all raised eyebrows at him. This was a new experience for Aerrow. He'd been threatened with fires, fists, crystals, energy blades, knives, sticks, stones, staffs, and many other things throughout his short life, but he'd never before been threatened with a broom.

The man stamped his foot in frustration. "That _trap_ was meant for Cyclonians!" he shouted. "You better have a good explanation for ruining it!"

Aerrow scratched his head and glanced on either side of him at Piper and Finn, trying to think up something to say. At least now he knew the man wasn't planning on hurting them. But what could he say?

Finally he decided on telling him the truth, although Aerrow was still kind shocked by that himself. "Well," he began, "these bird guys interrupted me while I was defending our home against a squad of Cyclonian wannabes to tell me I'm a Sky Knight." He put his hand on his heart just to be clear before he continued. "So we came here to find the _Condor_, rebuild the Storm Hawks, and fulfill some kind of Atmos-saving destiny." _Oh, yeah, _Aerrow thought. _That sounded really lame._

At first, the man just glared at him through narrowed eyes, as if deciding whether or not to believe him. At last, he put down his broom and shield and then pulled off the heavy metal mask. The face that met them surprised Aerrow. He was a young Merb, with his age somewhere in the early twenties. He couldn't have been more than ten years older than Aerrow, Piper, and Finn. And he was wearing a uniform not unlike their own!

"I'm Stork," the Merb introduced himself, placing a hand on his heart. "Get inside."

Aerrow didn't know what to think. Was Stork trustworthy? Was it safe to follow him into a place that was confined? He could have modified the inside just as he had modified the surrounding area, setting all sorts of booby traps just waiting for them.

But they had come this far, and to turn back now could mean death. And Aerrow had a good feeling about Stork. Besides, this was _Aerrow's_ ship by right. That should stand for something, shouldn't it? The Guardians had sent him here. They wouldn't do that if only to send him to his death.

So Aerrow led the others inside after Stork. "So," he asked, "now that you know what we're doing here . . . what are _you_ doing in an abandoned ship in the Wastelands?"

"Not exactly the most ideal home," Piper pointed out.

"Um . . ." Stork said to that last comment, "I wouldn't say that. The Wastelands may mean _certain doom_, but . . ." He smirked, his eyes narrowing in such a wicked manner that Aerrow couldn't help but think of the smile as creepy. "I like the ship."

Aerrow realized Stork was leading them to the bridge, but he told them about more while he was at it. The _Condor_ had many rooms. Stork told them about the blacksmith shop, the kitchen, the hangar bay and repair area lining the lower decks, and the living quarters in the upper decks.

As Aerrow looked around, even with the new repairs, the place didn't look like much. Over a hundred years old with engines older than Aerrow and his friends combined, there was no telling how many quirks this thing would have if it even worked. Oh, well. You don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You never told us how you got here?" Piper reminded Stork, interrupting him when he was telling them where all the bathrooms were. Finn glared at Piper. He seemed to think knowing where the bathrooms were located was important.

"Oh," Stork said.

A shadow fell over Stork's face. One that Aerrow knew all too well. "Cyclonians," he whispered for him. He felt the taste of his own hatred. He knew hatred had a taste and smell, and it seemed to rise within him whenever he thought of all the Cyclonians had done to them.

"Well . . ." Stork said, "there was an invasion."

As he spoke, they reached the bridge. Aerrow took a good look around. It was well lit due its large frontal window design that, along with the two sixty-foot periscopes on the bridge, gave this room the best visibility inside the ship.

In front and behind the helm was a railing, and behind the back railing was a round table. The table was halfway surrounded by curved booths, and the Storm Hawks' symbol decorated the tabletop. Aerrow thought it a little odd that the table was round. Traditionally, Sky Knight squadrons' meeting tables were rectangular, and the Sky Knight sat at the head of the table. Maybe Lightning Strike thought that a rectangular table portrayed smugness, making it look as if the Sky Knight was better than the rest of his squadron. Maybe he thought a round table had more fairness to it. Whatever his reasons, Aerrow liked it for every reason he had attributed to Lightning Strike. He smiled to himself as he thought that maybe the apple really _doesn't_ fall far from the tree. It comforted him to think that he had thought like his father, even if he never knew him. It was something to hold on to, something that made him feel like he had roots somewhere.

Stork was still telling his story. "So," he said, "I escaped to the Wastelands when my home Terra Merbia was attacked by the Cyclonians." He gasped fearfully even as he said it. "Luckily I found this ship," he said gesturing around the bridge. "It's deadly out there."

Piper looked impressed. "You did all these repairs yourself?" she asked him.

Stork whipped around and faced her with a smug smile. "_Well,_" he said, looking excited, "I made a few upgrades." He counted on his fingers as he listed them. "Tripled the power of the blaster ray, added an unidirectional tiller, improved the autopilot," he held up a finger, "_and_ installed cup holders." He gestured toward the cup holders.

Finn got a closer look at the cup holders. "Sweet!" he exclaimed, giving Stork a thumbs up.

"Yeah, sweet," Stork agreed without enthusiasm, "except I _can't find the blasted key to the ship!_" He clenched his fists as he shouted this and jabbed a finger at the ground angrily. "I've looked everywhere for years!"

Aerrow and Radarr exchanged a weird glance with Piper when Stork started to chuckle nervously. Was he having a nervous breakdown?

"I'm telling you," Stork insisted, pointing to them, "that thing mocks me!" He whipped around and pointed to the ignition.

So he thought that machines mocked him. Interesting guy.

Aerrow couldn't help smiling. "I think we may be able to help each other out," he said. He pulled out the crystal key the Guardians had given him and held it out toward Stork.

Stork stared wide-eyed at the key as if he couldn't believe it. He reached out to take it from Aerrow but hesitated when his fingers almost closed on it, as if waiting for Aerrow to take it back. When he didn't, the Merb snatched the key and held it in front of his smiling face, squealing with delight. Then, without further delay, he stuck the key into the ignition and turned. The key fit and turned the ignition. Letting out a shaky sigh of awe, Stork reached over to the three levers beside the helm, and pulled down on the nearest one.

Aerrow held his breath. Now they would see whether his new ship would work.

And it seemed it did! Gauge needles went up. The needle on the system moved from red to yellow and then to green, indicating the _Condor_ was ready for flight. All the humanoids cheered and threw their fists in the air, and Radarr smiled gleefully from where he hung on Aerrow's back.

Then . . . the system's gauge fell back to red, and the engines' whirling stopped. "Ah," everyone said in unison in their disappointment. So close!

But Stork wasn't going to put up with that. Muttering frustrated, inarticulate curses, he started kicking angrily at the helm's stand.

Amazingly, that worked! The system's gauge's needle turned back to green. Stork pulled down on the lever once more. And this time, the mighty ship groaned to life and slowly rose from the bed she had been resting on for ten long years. Stork spun her around and started off.

But Aerrow didn't have long to celebrate being airborne. His eyes were on something looming in front of them. "Uh, Stork," he said nervously. The pilot turned to look at him. Aerrow pointed out the window. "I think that's a volcano."

And it was a volcano. One look at was enough to make Finn, Piper, and Stork scream in terror. Finn grabbed Piper and moved her in front of him so he could hide behind her.

After the initial scream, everyone was too scared to say anything else. But their pilot screamed a second time as he turned the ship sharply to starboard and pulled her up. The _Condor_ cleared the volcano, only scraping her bottom portside hull on its top.

Aerrow couldn't believe it. That was some of the best flying he had ever seen! He, Piper, and Finn all let out a cheer for Stork.

Piper went to stand beside Stork opposite of Aerrow. Finn and Radarr went to the sixty-foot front window, leaning on the glass and looking down. "I can't believe this thing actually flies," Finn commented.

"Yeah," Stork agreed. "There's a good chance we'll fall out of the sky at any minute." He said it so calmly, so casually, that Aerrow began to get the idea that Stork was used to making dire predictions. But then again, he was a Merb, and Merbs were always waiting for horrible things to happen.

Stork turned to Aerrow. "So . . . Storm Hawks?" he asked, sounding skeptical.

"Hard to believe, I know," Aerrow answered. In fact, if Piper wasn't so sure of it, Aerrow wasn't sure that even he would believe it.

But Stork just shrugged as he turned back to the helm. "Eh, I believe in pretty much everything," he said. Then the Merb gasped and smiled at Aerrow. "You'll wanna see this!"

The Merb led Aerrow and his friends down toward the hangar bay. When he brought them there, the door opened and the lights went on, all automatically. Aerrow blinked a couple times to be sure of what he was seeing. "_Whoa,_" he, Piper, and Finn said in unison.

Radarr's ears shot up. Finn gasped, and Piper giggled in awe. "Wow," was all Aerrow could manage.

"Yeah," Stork agreed, smiling at their enthusiasm.

There in the hangar bay were the spare skyrides and weapons! They weren't just any skyrides, either. Most of them were model III Air Skimmers! One of the Skimmers was a silver and orange one, and this was a standard Air Skimmer III. The others, however, were of different types. The bulky silver and blue-green Skimmer was an Air Skimmer III EL. But the Skimmer that caught Aerrow's eye was the red, blue, and silver Skimmer with the Storm Hawks emblem on the sides that pop out into wings. It was an Air Skimmer III Ultra. It had a secondary cockpit on the starboard side and three cup holders (Aerrow wasn't sure who was supposed to use the third one). The fourth ride was a basic Heliscooter, blue and orange in color.

Something else caught Aerrow's eye along the walls as well, and it had nothing to do with skyrides. He started walking toward the far wall.

Finn had eyes only for the rides. He ran toward the standard III Skimmer and hugged its bow. "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen!" he exclaimed, smiling back at them. The next minute, he was kissing the Skimmer's sleek metal hood and rubbing it lovingly.

Piper put a finger to her lip. "Uh, except these are for the Storm Hawks, Finn," she reminded the boy, pointing to the Skimmers, "not you and me." She gestured back and forth between herself and Finn.

Aerrow was surprised by her comment. "What are you talking about?" he asked as he walked toward the far wall. He clenched his fist. "Growing up, we've always played 'Sky Knight.'" He stopped in front of the wall, beaming at his new revelation. "Now we get to do it for real!"

Hanging before him on the wall were four weapons and a shield. The shield was large and circular, and it looked as if it hitched onto the wing of the Ultra. Aerrow would have to remind himself to get someone to put that on . . . and also reminded himself that he should probably claim that Skimmer for his own.

One of the weapons caught his eye: a crystal-powered crossbow. Gently he picked up and felt it. He knew just who should take this: their own expert at splat blasters, the best at aim. He turned around. "Finn, sharpshooter!" he cried, tossing Finn the crossbow.

Finn caught the crossbow in his hands, smiling down at. "Ooh, sweet!" he exclaimed. He spun it around and pretended to aim.

The second weapon Aerrow saw also went along with someone else he knew well. It was a crystal energy staff that could take the effects of multiple crystals. He happened to know someone good with sticks and _excellent _with crystals. He tossed Piper the staff. "Piper, crystal mage." He thought a moment. "Plus all the smart stuff." Yeah, all the smart stuff Aerrow knew he couldn't do and, as a Sky Knight, would need to do. And she expected him to do this without her! The thought!

Piper caught the staff easily with one hand. She lengthened it, and then with a cry, she swung it right, then down and around, leaping into the air and bringing it down on the ground with a bang as she tested out her new weapon. It seemed to suit her well.

Aerrow turned to the last two weapons left hanging on the wall. "I'm thinking these are mine," he said aloud. They were twin energy blades, small yet lethal. Having two meant Aerrow was would be hard-pressed to hold a shield and fight at the same time, but that was okay with him; the shield looked somewhat cumbersome for someone so young and scrawny. Maybe a grown warrior could hold it easily but not a starved fourteen-year-old boy. Besides, two blades meant Aerrow could fight more than one enemy at the same time, and with two weapons, he was less likely to ever be found completely weaponless. Even better was the fact that he was ambidextrous.

Aerrow took the blades down and held them out, experimenting their weight in his hands. They felt right and natural. Just to see if they still had any crystals in their hilts, he tried to ignite them. The blades lit with blue glowing energy from rare blue striker crystals. The energy made Aerrow's fingers tingle, and thrills went up and down his spine. He could feel their power, their danger. And the best part was that power was his!

Aerrow knew he just had to try them out! With a battle cry, he swung the blades around, attacking one way, then another, always with a precision Aerrow hadn't known he possessed. With a final grunt, he slipped the blades in two clip-on sheaths on his back and flipped through the air. He was sitting in the seat of the Ultra by the time he realized how carried away he was, and by that time, he decided just to go with it.

He turned to his ever-faithful companion. "Radarr, you're my copilot," he told the furry creature. He hadn't even stopped to consider whether or not Radarr wanted to be a Storm Hawk. He just assumed Radarr would always be with him.

And he was right. As soon as Aerrow said that, Radarr's ears and tail shot up and he squawked with excitement. In a flying leap, he was in the little cockpit, which was the perfect size. With a chirp, he saluted his future Sky Knight.

There was only one last member Aerrow wanted to address for now. He needed someone who could drive his great ship, and he knew just the one. "What'd you say, Stork?" he asked the Merb in the doorway. He nodded at the wall of the _Condor_. "Wanna be our carrier pilot?"

Stork put his hand to his chin. "And spend the rest of my life cooped up in a tiny ship flying from terra to terra in a constant onslaught of deadly adventures?" he exclaimed, cringing a little. For a sad moment, Aerrow thought he would refuse. Then he drew a breath, and then a slow smirk spread across his face. "Oh, yeah! I'm in!"

Suddenly there was a crashing and rattling sound from somewhere else on the ancient ship. Stork pointed a thumb behind him. "I should probably go check on that," he said, turning around and heading to the door.

Aerrow smiled and looked around the hangar bay again. Perhaps this ship wasn't the best gift horse, but he _had_ looked it in the mouth . . . and he liked what he saw!

* * *

Author's Notes: And again we have _Stork!_ And more "Origins." Meh. Well, less effort on my part.

Only two more chapters to go!


	30. Chapter 29: The Path Chosen

Chapter 29: The Path Chosen

_It's not hard to make decisions when you know what your values are._

~Roy Disney

Twister paced back and forth on the edge of Terra Neverlandis. He was impatient. Snipe should have been here by now.

Over and over the make-believe scene played in his head: Snipe stepping forward and telling the boys how brave they were and telling them they were official Talons and would report to Master Cyclonis herself. He could already see himself among the proud troops that would one day rule the world.

But of course, in his make-believe scene, it is Grimsley that Snipe shook hands with . . . not him.

Always it was Grimsley!

Twister didn't even know if he really _hated_ Grimsley or if he even disliked him. Jealous? Yes. So he was a pig. But Grimsley had indeed gotten them this far. So was he wrong in his dislike?

Seeing Aerrow, Radarr, and Finn again, along with that girl, had brought back those unpleasant memories, that ever-present voice that Aerrow had put in his subconscious. But it hadn't made him reconsider anything. It had only made him more stubborn, more determined.

He'd show Aerrow. The day he walked through the streets of Cyclonian-conquered Atmosia as a Talon commander, he'd show him.

Funny that he should be so intent on showing up a dead boy.

* * *

But Junko was thinking just the opposite.

He sat underneath the willow tree, plucking leaves off one of the vines. He had made his decision. He would no longer side with the Cyclonians. He made a vow under the Great One, and to break such a vow meant torment in the afterlife. Besides, Junko doubted he could stomach any more of what Cyclonians called "uniting" anyway. It was not what a good guy did. And being good was much more important than being powerful. Aunt Eunice had told him that, and he believed that with all his heart.

Grimsley strode out of the cabin, and everyone within the fort turned to him. "Snipe's gonna be here any minute," he told his boys. Then he looked around. "Where's Twister?"

Jet, never one to talk much, turned his eyes toward the door of the fort.

"Out there, huh?" Grimsley's question was directed at Kite.

"How should I know?"

"You're his brother."

Kite grunted. "So? He can take care of himself."

Junko twirled a stick in the dirt, not bothering to look up. The brother quarrel between Twister and Kite always made him uncomfortable. It was as if each went out of their way to prove that they were not their brother's keeper.

Grimsley shrugged. "He's where he needs to be, anyway. We'll join him."

Grimsley led them outside and found Twister looking down over the edge of the terra. It seemed to Junko that Twister was looking for something . . . as if perhaps he wanted to see if he could find the bodies of the kids Junko had "thrown over" the side of the terra. Junko almost found it amusing. Little did any of them know that the civilians were alive and well!

Grimsley gathered them all together and then stood in front of them, looking as dignified as he possible could with that round belly of his. Junko crossed his arms and stared straight at him, never waving, scared to death that he might reveal is deception.

"Snipe takes orders directly from Master Cyclonis," Grimsley said, leaning toward his boys. "He's a big shot." He stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. "We gotta make a good impression."

Suddenly there was the sound of a loud horn. They all turned to the skies, and Junko could see something glittering. An airship was coming. Junko squinted toward it. Snipe?

Grimsley seemed to think so. "Here he comes," he said. "In just a few minutes, we'll be full-fledged Talons!"

Junko's face twisted in confusion as the ship headed closer, lacking the beak-like shape of a Cyclonian Destroyer. "Hmm, that doesn't look like a Cyclonian ship," he told Grimsley.

Grimsley face fell as the ship came into full view. Junko's heart leaped in rejoicing. The pontoon-like engines, the symbol of the hawk . . . "It's the _Condor_!" he exclaimed.

Right as he said it, the hangar bay opened, and the first of the Skimmers drove out onto the landing strip. It was the standard III, the one Finn had claimed for his own. The newly-made sharpshooter screamed in fright as he sped out of control off the landing strip, deployed his wings, and barrel rolled . . . on accident.

Behind him, Aerrow and Radarr and Piper had each mounted their rides. Aerrow and Radarr were in their places on the Ultra Skimmer, and Piper had claimed the Heliscooter. Sitting on their rides side by side, Aerrow and Piper exchanged glances as they saw Finn's unplanned stunt, and Radarr looked back and forth between them. Sometimes, it seemed Finn was just hopeless. Oh well. Hopefully he wouldn't kill himself while he was flying.

Aerrow and Radarr and Piper took off into the sky smoothly (having actually looked at their flight manuals, unlike Finn). They didn't really have a plan; all they had worked out was that they were going to win back their terra.

Piper flew up alongside Aerrow and Radarr. Aerrow could feel his chest swelling. They were really doing it! They were being a real Sky Knight squadron! He turned to Piper with a cocky smile. "Remember," he told her, "we're the Storm Hawks now, so just be cool!"

Piper only had time to smile in response before they had to break away from each other to avoid being hit by screaming, upside-down Finn. As he zipped between them, he managed to right himself, only to turn upside-down again and scream some more.

Junko couldn't believe his eyes when he saw who was flying. "The Storm Hawks!" he exclaimed, forgetting to hide his enthusiasm. He clenched his fists. "Cool!"

"No!" Grimsley corrected him, hitting him in the shoulder to get the Wallop to look at him. He got up right in his face. "It's not cool!" He turned to the other four Cyclonian Youths. "Get to your rides!" he commanded them.

Without a moment's hesitation, the boys obeyed. They were off on their bike-like rides at once to intercept the new Storm Hawks.

Grimsley mounted up as well, hitting his bell as he did. But just as he started pedaling to get his helicopter blades moving, a hand reached out a stopped the blades. Grimsley looked up in surprise. It was Junko, his own man, and he was glaring at him. "What're ya doing?" Grimsley asked in disbelief.

Junko drew back his fist. "Being a good guy!" he answered. And with that, he punched Grimsley clear of his ride.

Grimsley groaned as he hit the ground on his stomach. "Ha!" Junko laughed at him as he hopped onto Grimsley bicycle and began pedaling. The punk had gotten what he deserved.

Grimsley growled as he sat up, watching the Wallop take to the sky on _his_ ride. "Junko, you traitor!" he shouted after him, shaking his fist at him. But Junko paid him no mind.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Cyclonian Youth Brigade 059 was headed toward the Storm Hawks. Aerrow led his new team closer, ready to meet them in the middle.

Twister zeroed his gaze in on them. He didn't know how in the world Aerrow and his friends had managed this new feat of survival, but it didn't matter. They were going down once and for all. Aerrow would pay. Twister threw back his shaggy purple hair out his face and fired from his blaster gun, sending a red crystal energy pulse toward Aerrow.

Luckily, Aerrow saw it, and with a grunt, he barrel rolled, letting the shot fly past him. The roll sent Radarr high into the air. Squawking, the little guy landed in a belly flop on his cockpit, looking dazed. Aerrow set his jaw. He wasn't going to get caught off guard like that again!

Piper was worried. She knew for a fact that the Cyclonian Youths were a little older and definitely more experienced with their weapons and rides. But she decided to try something anyway. She flew right up to the Cyclonian Youths, and three of them surrounded her. The one with the blaster fired again, and Piper grunted and leaned back, the blast nearly hitting her face. Aerrow held his breath. He knew Piper could take care of herself, but he did not want to see one of his friends hurt.

But Piper had an idea. She pulled out a crystal she had found on the _Condor_ and stuck it on the end of her energy staff. She didn't quite know what it did, but it was worth a shot. She pointed it at Twister and declared, "Here goes nothin'!"

Piper fired . . . then she grunted in frustration. The crystal had only produced pretty, little, white flowers.

Twister burst out laughing. Flowers? They were going to defeat them with _flowers?_

He was so busy laughing that a flower flew into his mouth.

He grabbed his throat and began cough, and while he choked, he lost control of his ride.

Yes, it appeared they were going to defeat them with flowers.

But it backfired. Twister's bicycle sidled off to port and rammed into the _Condor_'s rudder on the back of the great ship.

Stork cried out as he felt the controls jolt to port. He tried to pull them back and right the rudder, but nothing worked. The rudder was stuck.

At first, Piper seemed oblivious to what had happened to their ship. She cheered at her success, holding her staff high. Only then did she remember Stork and the _Condor_. "Stork," she asked over their radio, "are you okay?"

The _Condor_ was listing badly, first to port, then to starboard. Stork pulled at the levers desperately, trying to loosen up the rudder, but the _Condor_ began to plummet. "Oh, yeah," Stork answered Piper back, "nothing to worry about. Just crashing to my doom!" He started screaming, straining at the lever. He peered over the helm frantically and saw he was headed straight for the tip of Terra Neverlandis.

Aerrow began following the _Condor_. He had to save Stork, the ship, and the terra! He wasn't sure how he was going to that, but he had to do something fast.

Stork still strained on the lever, but nothing would budge. "Whoa!" he said as he strained to pull the _Condor_ up. "What is wrong with you?" After all the time he'd put in the _Condor_, she was going to betray him by not responding? He screamed again. He and this precious ship were doomed!

Suddenly, there was a miracle. Junko flew up behind the _Condor_, and with a mighty Wallop roar, he swung back his fist and bashed it against the rudder, loosening it from its rust-stuck state. Stork gasped in relief as the _Condor_ tilted upward once more, at last obeying his command. In relief, the Merb fell over backward and rested, smiling and panting. "Oh," he sighed, never having been so happy to be alive.

Aerrow let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and he smiled at the hero, Junko. He had the sudden thought that maybe the Wallop might be a good addition to the team. "I think we just found our muscle," he told Radarr.

He flew up beside Junko and waved to him. Junko saluted back to him, knowing the leader of the Storm Hawks was acknowledging that Junko was on their side. "Cool!" the Wallop exclaimed again. With a laugh from him, he and the future Sky Knight split up once more, looking for more Cyclonians.

Finn, meanwhile, had found some, and he fired his new crossbow at them. It took four shots, but finally Kite's bicycle shattered, sending Kite parachuting down to the terra. Finn was ecstatic. "I got one!" he exclaimed, throwing his fists in the air. "I got one!"

Twister looked after his brother for a moment only to see he was going to miss the terra. He had a decision to make. He could go after his brother and risk being shot out of the sky by Blondie. Or he could try to take down Blondie in revenge and see if he couldn't go after his brother later.

He chose the latter.

While Finn was still celebrating, the violet-haired boy fired a shot that cut Finn's new Skimmer in half and sent it down toward the terra in a cloud of smoke. Finn only had time to say, "Oh man," before he fell, screaming.

Luckily, Piper was there to catch him. And poor Finn landed crotch-first on the hood of her Heliscooter. "That'll never happen again," he vowed through a voice filled with pain.

Grimsley, left on Terra Neverlandis' surface without a skyride, watched the skies with irritation, infuriated at Junko for his betrayal and annoyed that he could not fight alongside his loyal boys. So, when he noticed a reddish skyride with helicopter blades approaching, he started waving his hands in the air. "Somebody come pick me up!" he demanded, clenching his fists as he held them high.

But the skyride he waved to was not the skyride he thought it was. When the ride swerved close, he heard the drowning sound of a _Talon Heli-Blade_.

The Heli-Blade slid to a stop in front of him, sending up a dust cloud that made Grimsley cough. When the dust cloud cleared, Grimsley's heart raced. Oh no.

This wasn't just any Heli-Blade; it was a Talon Heli-Blade Elite. And sitting on it was burly, pale-faced man with blue-violet hair slicked back in streamline spikes. It was the mace-wielding Talon commander Snipe. He gestured to Grimsley irritably. "I thought you said this terra was conquered!" he scolded, clenching his fist. He stepped off his ride and sent Grimsley a withering glare.

Grimsley did his best not to show he was afraid, and he did a good job of it. "It is, sir," he answered, sounding much surer than he felt. "One hundred percent conquered."

As soon as he said it, two shots from his squadron blasted near his feet behind him. "Ow! Ah!" Grimsley cried as he leapt forward, ending up pressing himself against Snipe's chest in an instinctive urge to use the older Talon as a shield.

Behind him, the Cyclonian flag on top of the fort fell and clattered onto the ground.

Grimsley looked up at the infuriated Snipe and cringed as the Talon put a finger to the boy's forehead and pushed him off of his chest. Well, that was embarrassing. Still, Grimsley was hopeful. They may be real Talons yet!

But Snipe wasn't paying attention to him. He was turned to the skies. "Huh?"

Grimsley looked to see, too. It was Aerrow's new, fancy ship that Snipe was gawking at. If it were anyone but Snipe, Grimsley would have huffed. The cruiser was a piece of junk in his opinion, a simple little scheme Aerrow was using to try to get his and his friends' terra back. Grimsley hated that ship, and he hated Aerrow and everything that goody-two-shoes Sky Knight supporter represented.

But Snipe was gawking at the ship as if it were something phenomenal . . . and horrid. "The _Condor_?" he gasped. "Impossible." When he turned back to Grimsley, he kept his eyes to the ground, looking worried. Giving a grunt-like gasp, he said, "Master Cyclonis is gonna wanna here about this!"

He turned to Grimsley, _finally_ noticing him. "Here," he said. He shoved a large crystal, about as big as Grimsley's two fists, into his hands. The crystal was stuck into some metallic attachment device. "Take this," Snipe instructed him.

Grimsley studied the crystal. It was a purple-pink-like color and made a whirling sound as it pulsed. What was he supposed to do with this?

Snipe got in his ride without explaining. He only turned to cast Grimsley a smirk and gave him a word of advice: "You won't wanna stick around when this baby goes off!" And with an evil-sounding cackle, he whipped his Heli-Blade around Grimsley and took to the skies once more.

Then, there was the whistling sound of something falling. Grimsley turned around to see Jet's ride crash-land into the bushes behind him. Jet exclaimed in surprise and pain as his parachute caught on the tree behind the bushes, and he was left hanging there like sky shark bait.

Grimsley looked at the downed boy with concern, not for his squadron's wellbeing, but for his plan. It was in ruins. Two of his four loyal followers were already down, and Snipe had abandoned them to tell Master Cyclonis about the _Condor_.

But Snipe hadn't abandoned them completely. Now Grimsley was starting to see what he must do. He turned with a raised eyebrow to the skyride lying in the bushes.

Moments later, with two Cyclonian Youths down and the other two defeated, Aerrow noticed another bike flying up from the terra. It was Grimsley, peddling for all he was worth. Aerrow smiled. It looked like their enemy was retreating! At last, true victory against the world's meanest bully!

Feeling cocky, Aerrow flew his and Radarr's Skimmer up next to Grimsley's bike, the Skimmer being a much faster vehicle. "You look like you're in a hurry," Aerrow taunted.

"A hurry to get outta here," Grimsley growled in agreement. But before Aerrow could feel triumphant, Grimsley added, "After I trash your ship!"

Before Aerrow could answer, he gasped fearfully and Radarr squawk in surprise as Grimsley suddenly swerved toward his head. Aerrow ducked, and the Cyclonian Youth's front wheel clanked against the Skimmer's windshield. But Aerrow just glared after him, and Radarr squawked angrily. Trash their ship?

Aerrow and Radarr didn't have time to react before Grimsley had flown up next to the _Condor_, heading the opposite direction. As he passed her by, he threw the crystal Snipe had given him toward the ship, and its attachment device latched itself onto one of the _Condor_'s pontoon-like engines. Once attached, the crystal began to glow brightly.

Inside the _Condor_, Stork looked down at the gauges in shock. All of the needles sank, the Timepulse went still, and the alarms began to blare. "Huh?" Stork gasped. Everything had quit! "I lost the engine!" he cried over the radio. "We're goin' down!"

Even as he said it, the _Condor_ began to list, her bow dipping down, down toward the Wastelands and her speed increasing. Aerrow could faintly here Stork's scream over the radio. No! Without even thinking, Aerrow took control of his Skimmer, and he and Radarr flew over the _Condor_.

Grimsley just watched in amusement. The stupid hunk of metal was down, and Aerrow was going down with it! "Mission accomplished, boys!" he told his two boys who hadn't been shot down. "Let's get outta here!" All three laughed as they peddled off into the sky.

But Twister glanced back, looking around. He, Jay, and Grimsley were alone. Where was his brother? Where was his friend?

Kite was nowhere to be seen. The last remnants of Jet's parachute hung from the tree at the lower end of Terra Neverlandis. It looked as if it had broken, and Jet had tumbled over the edge.

Twister set his jaw as he followed after Grimsley. He was aware that he had made a choice when he'd seen his brother fall. But the Storm Hawks would pay . . . if not for Kite, than for Jet!

With one last growl, he was surprised to find himself peddling even faster than Grimsley.

Behind them, the Storm Hawks watched in horror as the _Condor_ started its nosedive for the Wastelands. Radarr squeaked in alarm.

Aerrow set his jaw. He'd come too far now to loose his new ship and new friend and to let down the rest of his friends. "Stork! Hang on!" he cried into the radio. And with that, he and Radarr dove after the great ship.

The _Condor_ was closing in on the cloud line. It was going to be difficult. Not sure what he was doing, Aerrow planned his next move. "Radarr, take over," he ordered his copilot. With a grunt, he leapt off his ride and hung on portside from the seat, ready to reach toward the ship once they were close to it. With a squawk, Radarr hopped into the pilot's seat.

Radarr pulled the Skimmer up alongside the crystal attached to the _Condor_. Aerrow kept his sights on the glowing, flashing stone, planning to reach out and pull it off. But before he could try, he heard the whirling sound of dying engines. Radarr stared at the gauges on the Skimmer's dashboard and saw all the needles fall. He squawked in alarm. Without the engine, the wind picked up the wings of the Skimmer, and the _Condor_ slid past them, now falling at a faster rate. "It must be draining the power!" Aerrow exclaimed. That was the only explanation.

But Aerrow was still determined. They had to keep the ship from crashing. The boy looked back at his copilot. "Radarr, we need less drag!"

Squawking in alarm at what he was doing, Radarr pressed to buttons on the dashboard. The wings folded in, and the streamline Skimmer began to gain on the bulky _Condor_.

Within the _Condor_, Stork was gasping as he pulled at the controls and helm, trying to get the ship to respond, but she wouldn't budge. Piper's voice came over the radio. "_Stork, it's not worth it! You need to bail out!_"

Bail out? And leave his precious _Condor_ that he had worked so hard to repair? "Nah ah!" he answered back. "This pilot goes down with his ship!"

Outside, Aerrow's and Radarr's Skimmer had finally pulled up alongside the crystal on the _Condor_'s engine once again. Aerrow still hung from the side of his Skimmer, his right blade in his hand, ignited. Now came the scariest part of it all. Before he could think twice about it, Aerrow shouted, "Yah!" and leapt toward the ship. The impact with the ship knocked the breath out of him, but the stunt was not all that different from other stunts he has had to do in the past. Despite the smoothness of the metal, he was able to cling to the _Condor_'s hull, thankful that his gloves gave him better grip.

With Aerrow on the _Condor_, Rader deployed the wings of the Skimmer to keep from crashing, and the drag slowed the Skimmer, allowing the _Condor_ to fall past it. Aerrow was on his own now.

Aerrow's eyes focused on the crystal. It was more than a yard away from him; quite a crawl on the smooth side of a speeding airship. But though Aerrow's heart fluttered in his chest, he didn't give himself time to be afraid. He could slip off and fall to his death if he tried to crawl, but if he didn't try, he was going to crash into the Wastelands anyways. Now there was nothing to lose.

Grunting as he went, Aerrow edged his way toward the crystal on his belly. The wind, billowing around him, threatened to tear him off the face of the ship, but Aerrow stayed low, letting the wind flow over him. He was four feet closer, a yard, two feet, one foot . . . At last, Aerrow was before the crystal. He raised his blade to strike.

But then he gasped and lowered his blade, staring at it as its glow faded. He had forgotten; his new blades were also powered by crystals.

Now what? He had to get rid of the crystal. With a heave, he struck downward at the crystal with his no-longer-ignited blade desperately but vainly. He peered downward. The red-orange glow of the lava rivers of the Wastelands shined below him, and sulfur began to sting his nose. There wasn't much time.

Aerrow studied his blade again and seemed to see it for the first time. Sure, it was a Sky Knight's weapon, powered by the use of a crystal. But it was also a blade, much like a knife, which is the only true weapon Aerrow had ever carried before. The edge of the wing-shaped blade reminded him of a pocket knife, perhaps a bit jagged in comparison.

Aerrow knew what to do. With a "Yaw!" he sliced the crystal across. The sharp blade of the weapon shattered the crystal like glass.

Within the _Condor_, the needle of the gauge displaying the power spun from green to red as the engines once again roared to life. The ship leveled herself out just as she hit the rocky surface of the hard ground of the Wastelands, thankfully avoiding the lava rivers completely. She bounced just once before she lifted her bow, ascending once again above the cloud line.

At first, Stork, who found himself on the floor, wasn't sure he was really alive or whether he was only hearing what he wanted to hear. But as he put a hand on top of the helm and used it to lift himself up and look out the window, the dark sulfuric clouds opened up to clear blue skies. "Whoo, hoo, hoo!" Stork whooped throwing his fists in the air. Aerrow had really done it!

Above the clustered clouds just below the top of Terra Neverlandis, Finn had gotten off the Heliscooter's bow and was now seated behind her. Piper circled her Heliscooter around, and they scan the skies worriedly, with Junko flying beside them doing the same. They had seen Radarr fly up with his and Aerrow's new Skimmer, but where were Aerrow, Stork, and the _Condor_?

As if answering a spoken question, the _Condor_ rose up out the clouds, her bow and stern level. A figure clambered up the side of the starboard pontoon engine, standing on top and waving to them. It was Aerrow! Their friends and their new ship were safe!

"Yeah!" Piper cheered in relief.

"Alright!" Finn exclaimed, returning Aerrow's wave.

Junko smiled as he followed the _Condor_ alongside the Heliscooter.

Radarr followed behind. With an excited squawk, he celebrated in his own way, sending the Skimmer into a barrel roll.

* * *

Author's Notes: The Storm Hawks' first victory! Hurrah, everyone!

Now, just one more chapter!


	31. Chapter 30: Take Flight

Chapter 30: Take Flight

_It's choice—not chance—that determines your destiny._

~Jean Nidetch

Once they landed, the new Storm Hawks wasted no time in setting the Storm Hawks symbol back up on the flagpole of the fort where it belonged.

Yet something was different this time. Aerrow could feel it. Something had changed.

As the Storm Hawks all stood back from the fort and peered up at the flag in admiration, Aerrow got down on one knee in front of them, facing the fort. It was here he, Radarr, Piper, and Finn had all formed their new life. They had named it Neverlandis, a place for lost souls.

"Well," he told the others, "we got our terra back, but knowing what we know now, this whole Storm Hawks thing, it doesn't really feel like home here anymore."

"You know, Aerrow," Piper said gently, "the Storm Hawks didn't have a terra." Aerrow turned around a met her eyes, guessing what she was getting at. "That's what made them special," she continued. "They protected _all_ of Atmos."

Aerrow stood up and bowed his head in thoughtful silence. It made sense. Here all they had to protect was their ownership of their own piece of property. It was a want that was a lot like the greed that started this war. Besides, no one else lived here who they needed to protect. Many other places on Atmos needed someone to fight for them, and everywhere people were praying for a turn in the war. And now, they had the chance to try to do just that.

And at last they could leave and have adventures. At last they could fulfill those dreams and satisfy his wanderlust.

Aerrow smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "The _Condor_ would make a pretty cool pad," he said, looking toward the ship.

"First dibs on rooms!" Finn cried, taking off toward the _Condor_.

Laughing and shouting, the others followed after him, eager to claim what was theirs before the others did. The Storm Hawks entered the ship, not even looking back at the lonely fort most of them had built with the own hands, surrounding the comforting limbs of the ancient willow tree.

Underneath the younger tree at the base of the hill, the Guardians all stood watching, secluded by the darkness cast by the tree. "Jubilation!" the silver one cried. He gestured out toward the ship. "The _Condor_ is found, a mighty squadron rebuilt!" he cried, pulling back his extended hand and balling it into a fist.

The masked one grunted skeptically, his arms crossed. "They're a bunch of orphans," he grumbled. "What do they know about 'saving the Atmos'?"

"They know courage!" the silver one exclaimed excitedly, clenching his fist again. He turned to the Guardian in copper and gold. "What say you, master?" he asked.

The golden-robed one, their master, was kneeling in front of them, facing out toward the ship. His head was bowed and his hands were clasped in meditation. "The boy will be a Sky Knight," he spoke gently.

"Ah, and what of the girl?" the silver one asked, gesturing toward him. "Is she the one?"

The master opened his eyes gradually and solemnly, each word coming out slowly. "Only time will tell."

The silver one smiled in satisfaction, but the masked one still looked skeptical.

The Guardians all lifted their heads when they heard the _Condor_'s engines whirl. They watched as the great ship lifted herself off the ground and hovered, turning about toward the skies. But then an engine gave out and she lurched downward before she recovered. Then she flew off over the side of the terra and the engine failed again, making her fall out of sight. With an even more powerful whirling sound, she appeared again, racing for open skies. But every now and then, the engine sputtered, and the _Condor_ bulked before continuing on.

Now the future of the Atmos was in the hands of three young orphans, a Wallop boy with confidence issues, a scared-stiff Merb, a furry little creature, and their broken-down ship. "Yup," the masked one said. "We're doomed."

* * *

Far from the new Storm Hawks and their _Condor_, from the Guardians of Atmos, and from the placid Terra Neverlandis lay the Terra of Cyclonia, a terra always haunted by fiery-red skies and home to the Cyclonian Empire.

Master Cyclonis was dead.

But no one mourned.

Instead, a young girl, only fourteen years of age, stood in the throne room with her hands clasped behind her back. She wore the aubergine cloak and hood of the Master; her dark hair cascaded softly around her face, its jagged ends making a ragged border for her pale, almost white, face. Her violet eyes should have been bright, like lilac, but there was something sinister about them that darkened them.

With her father and now her grandmother dead, the girl was all alone. But she had always been alone. She could take care of herself. Master Cyclonis' little granddaughter had grown up.

The girl watched as two of her Talons pushed a large metal chair out of her way.

Another figure approached, walking through the doorway of the throne room. Clad in armor with the Cyclonian symbol of a red raven striking in attack, a double-bladed, two-handed sword in a sheath on his back, and a grappling hook on his left arm, he looked like a fit warrior. The warrior's jet-black hair had not changed much in ten years, but now he had side burns that darkened his face. He was stronger and fit, a man now in his prime. But the strangest physical change he had experienced the last ten years was that the color of his dark eyes had altered to blood-red, as if to illustrate the very embodiment of evil.

Seeing him, the girl smiled. "Grandmother's old throne," she said, looking back at the chair being dragged away. "So old-fashioned." She turned back to the warrior. "Times are changing, Dark Ace."

The Dark Ace bowed his head to her. "And I remain your humble servant, Master Cyclonis," he said.

"Good," the new Master Cyclonis said, turning away from him. She walked toward the stand where throne had stood, where now there was a huge machine with a large glass case above the keyboard controls. The Storm Engine. "We have work to do," the Master said, pressing various buttons. The Storm Engine began to blow air into its glass chamber. Master Cyclonis leered as she watched. Soon, she would finish what her grandmother had started; the Atmos would be hers and hers alone.

* * *

That evening, Twister, Jay, and Grimsley were all crowded around their camp. "We can still go back to the terra," Jay said for the hundredth time. He had been listless all evening, as if the loss of his brother was just slowly sinking in.

Twister glared at him. "To what?" he asked. "We'd find nothing. And we can't fight against a firepower like that."

"Then we'll just keep going," Grimsley said.

Twister gave him a cold glare. "We lost two guys today. And you don't even care."

Grimsley shrugged. "It happens."

Twister had never been more furious.

A storm had been rising up. With the rain coming down and nothing else to do, the boys went to be. Their tents were peppered with so much rain that it was almost impossible to hear one think, much less sleep.

Twister finally got up. He couldn't take it anymore. Careful not to disturb Grimsley, he went to Jay, shaking him awake. "I'm leaving," he said.

Jay opened his eyes groggily. "What? What happened?"

"I'm leaving," Twister repeated.

Jay's eyes widened, finally awake. "What?"

"I'm leaving," Twister said a third time, his patience running short. "And you'll want to come."

Jay scowled. "Do I?" he challenged. "What if I don't want to come?"

"It's your choice."

Jay rolled back over, pulling his blanket over his head. "Leave then."

* * *

In the morning, Jay and Grimsley woke to find Twister and half the supplies gone.

Grimsley was cursing as he looked through their supplies. "He took the map!"

"Well . . ." Jay said hesitantly, sensing Grimsley anger and not wanting to make it worse, "we do know our coordinates, right?"

Grimsley's shoulders slumped, his scowl deepening. He didn't turn to look at Jay.

"You don't know our coordinates," Jay said slowly.

Grimsley didn't answer.

"We'll take a bearing tonight," Jay said reassuringly.

"With _what_?" Grimsley asked. "We don't have any tools!"

"They taught us how to do it based on the stars at the Brigade base," Jay pointed out.

Grimsley looked at him strangely. "Do you know how?"

Jay's face paled, and he shook his head.

* * *

Days later, a green-haired Talon messenger came and reported to the new Master Cyclonis. "Master," he said, "Cyclonian Youth Brigade 059 has disappeared."

"That's how many Youth Brigades we've lost?" the Dark Ace grunted. He stood in the corner, his red eyes bearing down on the frightened messenger, who jumped at the sound of his voice. He hadn't realized the Talon commander was there.

"Too many," Cyclonis answered. She had been working on her latest machine and only now turned around to face the messenger. "Shut down the organization."

The messenger looked flabbergasted. "Madame?"

"This training for new recruits is obviously insufficient," she answered. "Besides, I've already got plans for a new one." She smirked. "Talon Academy."

The messenger was dismissed. Bowing his head wordlessly, he left the chamber to head back to his post, blowing his green hair out of his face.

Lance was tired of this, that was for sure. He remembered being a lieutenant, where there was always enough money for him to eat and he was never yelled at and ordered around nearly as much. But his failure to contain a few measly kids had cut his rank. Now he was forced to be the messenger of Master Cyclonis. A dangerous job, certainly—the fourteen-year-old empress didn't always seem to have heard of the saying "Don't shoot the messenger"—and the pay was far less. But he was not angry. Frustrated, yes. Angry, no. It would do little good to be mad at a boy that was dead.

In the hangar bay, rather than immediately taking off, he just looked at his skimmer a moment before giving it a hard kick with his boot. This was crazy. How he wished he didn't have to deal with this!

But he no longer had a choice, he reminded himself. Just as he had told Sparrow.

"Sir?"

Lance turned at that. Rarely did anyone call him "sir" anymore.

The one who stood before him was no more than a boy, fifteen or sixteen. His mope of purple hair was strangely similar to Sparrow's, but there the similarities ended. This boy was burly and strong, and his sharp eyes cold. He was thin, as if he had not eaten a good meal in some time.

Lance regarded him quietly. When the boy still didn't say anything, he asked, "Well? What do you want?"

"Can you help me, sir?" the boy said. "I want to be Talon."

Lance snorted. "So do a thousand other youths in Atmos. There's going to be a new school starting up soon. You can join that."

"No," the boy said. "I don't want to train as a youth. I want to train with the men."

Lance shook his head. Every now and then there were youths who thought they could stand with the adults. They were often boys; girls weren't that dumb. "Son," he said, "you train with the men, and you'll be dead your first battle out."

"No," the boy answered sternly.

Lance didn't like the light he saw in the boy's eyes. It was as if he had slowly been hardened just for this moment, his resolve strengthened. In his eyes he saw someone who truly believed in the promise of Cyclonia and would do _anything_ to bring it about.

But even strong will alone didn't win battles. Skill and smarts did. You had to be quick, be trained, and be ready. Lance knew that the Sky Knight squadrons were no pushovers. Their training was much more rigorous than a Talon's and much more varied, making for pure fighting machines. That is why Talons so outnumbered the Sky Knights, but it is also why a Talon's mortality rate was so much lower.

He couldn't send the boy to his death.

"You're not going to help me." The boy's voice was cold.

It was only then that Lance realized this lad was different. He was going to fight with the Talons . . . one way or another.

Lance sighed. This could very well be a youth that would sneak into the troops in uniform. The least he could do was get him in the ranks so that he had some form of training.

"Sure, son," he said. "I'll see what I can do."

Twister smiled at the green-haired Talon before him. At last, he would be among the great empire that would win the war. Never again would he be put down.

* * *

Junko sighed as he looked at his teddy bear. He sat on his bed . . . or what had become his bed just three days ago.

He was in his new suit, a blue and green uniform that Aerrow had given him. Aerrow had said it might fit. It was too big for anyone else. And Aerrow had been right. They had also found armor for Junko, which could be attached to this suit. Junko learned that Aerrow believed the suits, which he had gotten from his mother, were Storm Hawk uniforms. In wearing it, Junko felt like he was part of the team.

Here, everyone was kind to one another. Here they put up with his jokes, they never minded how strong he was, they played with him . . .

He remembered when he had just settled in and he had come into the bridge. "Okay," he'd asked. "What do you want me to do?"

The others had looked at him dubiously. Even Stork seemed surprised by the question.

Finally Aerrow said, "Well . . . what do you want to do?"

Finn had excitedly found a game of Splonk on board, and he grabbed the box now. "Want to play?" he asked Junko.

So that was how Junko had spent his first night on the _Condor_ . . . playing Splonk with his new best friend Finn.

But it was only tonight that realization was hitting Junko. These people cared about him and looked at him. They were . . .

They were real friends. They looked after him, and he planned to look after them. They helped people; they were the good guys. And Junko would be a good guy with them.

Junko had never felt more like a Wallop.

* * *

Aerrow stood on the balcony of the _Condor_ on that same day. The wind ruffled his hair as he stared out of the sky, as if he could somehow penetrate through it to see the future outcome he sought.

As always, Radarr sat beside him, somehow balancing his slim form on the railing. He sensed Aerrow's worry as if it was his own, and he rested his head on Aerrow's hand, peering up at him with concerned eyes.

"Hey."

Radarr lifted his head, and both he and Aerrow turned to see Piper standing a little way off. She smiled gently at Aerrow, approaching him confidently. "So," she said, "how's are soon-to-be-Sky Knight?"

Aerrow snorted. "We don't know that."

"If anyone can pass the Trials, you can."

Aerrow raised an eyebrow. "No one my age has ever _tried_ the Trials, must less pass them."

Piper grinned. "The Guardians chose you—"

"We _think_," Aerrow reminded her.

"—and you can do just about anything—"

"_Not_ anything."

Piper tapered off, looking annoyed. "Stop arguing with me. I told you I don't like it when you argue with me." She nudged his arm. "Come on, Aerrow. I know you'll do great. Quite honestly, all you have to do is picture each trial as a Cyclonian, and you'll beat them all done."

Aerrow smiled in amusement at that, but he still lowered his eyes. "But what if the Guardians chose wrong? I'm not Lightning Strike."

"They didn't," Piper insisted.

"How can you be so sure?"

Piper grinned again. "I may not have known Lightning Strike, but I know _you_, Aerrow. And I know you can do it."

Aerrow chuckled. "Don't have much of a choice, do I? Not with the Guardians in charge."

Piper placed a hand on his shoulder. "You always have a choice," she reminded him softly.

"Piper . . ."

She met his eyes.

"Thanks."

"No problem." She put an arm around his shoulder and looked out of the sky with him.

Aerrow couldn't help smiling from ear to ear. Sure, Piper thought it was no problem. But it was a big thing to him for her to be there for him. It was a big thing that they all be there. He had slowly come to that realization. Stork and his own weird way of affection; Junko and his willingness to do what's right despite the others around him; Finn and his goofiness which always brought a smile to Aerrow's face; Radarr, his best friend, who had stuck with Aerrow through thick and thin for many years now; and Piper, who undoubtedly was there as Aerrow's conscience, brain, counselor, and best friend and who knew him almost as well as Radarr did.

Aerrow could hardly remember what it was like to have a family, but now he thought he knew.

And with his new family by his side, he _knew_ they could succeed. They could finish what the original Storm Hawks started. And he could be a Sky Knight revered by many . . . so long as his team was at his side.

A new day was dawning. Whatever it brought, peace or war, joy or hardship . . . he was ready.

* * *

On a small terra meant only for lost souls, a Mynall bird sat in an ancient willow tree, head bowed and eyes closed.

_A world to be good or evil. A world to rise in unity or fall to chaos._

_A group of souls once lost, now found._

_One will be the weapon. One will be a liberator. One will show the difference between might and right. One will be a savior. One will hold the fate of the world in her hands._

_And one will lead them._

The bird opened his piercing yellow eyes, spread his wings, and took flight.

* * *

Author's Notes: It's over! It's _over! _Gee, you guys have _no idea_ how long this took me to finish when I first began writing it! Now everything's done and posted! Hard to believe. Kind of funny, though, how it worked out to be exactly thirty chapters. That certainly wasn't intentional.

Okay, this is the part where you guys review saying whether or not you guys liked it in its entirety while I sit by nervously biting my nails as I wait for judgment.

Good day to you all! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!


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